Family
by Mar Komi
Summary: The crew travels to Jayne's home world to help deal with a land-hungry neighbor. Meeting the Cobb clan leaves none unaffected. Fifth in the Eagle series.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Not my family. Not by blood.

**A/N: **Fifth in my series, this takes place post-OIS and pre-BDM and some time after the events in my previous story "Simon Says".

_Written for siblings everywhere, and in loving memory of my own brother, Eirik (1986-2003)._

* * *

><p><strong><span>Family<span>**

PROLOGUE

**_Paquin, just outside the town of New Inverness_**

The hovercraft floated alongside the tree line that marked the edge of the forest, making the birds that nestled there frantically take to their wings. The driver – a man in his sixties, but strong and fit for his age – took no notice of this, or if he did, didn't care. He only grinned broadly at the sight of the land stretching out in front of him. It was early in the fall and the forest was an explosion of color and the air clear and crisp, but it was neither the colors nor the air that brought out the grin. He wasn't there for the scenery.

He parked his vehicle at the top of a small hill overlooking the forest and stepped off, pulling out a pair of binoculars and raising them to his eyes to have a closer look at the valley below. He could make out the little house half hidden by the trees just where the forest started to grow thick. There was smoke coming out of the chimney, newly washed bed linen were hanging on a clothesline, and here and there skins and furs were laid out to dry in the sun. The whole thing was quite picturesque.

But he wasn't there for the scenery.

Still gazing through his binoculars, he turned away from the house to look at the vast meadow that stretched all the way from the tree line and down to the river in the distance, and the grin on his face only grew.

The sound of a gun being cocked behind him interrupted his thoughts and he took the binoculars from his eyes. The smile, however, stayed in place as he slowly turned around to face the woman standing there. She was in her late thirties, dark-haired, tall and well-built and there was a barely contained flame of rage in her blue eyes. She was pointing a worn but well-kept shotgun at him. "This is private property," she snarled. "Leave!"

He kept grinning. "C'mon now, Jo. Is this how you greet a neighbor?"

She stepped closer. "Shut your hole, MacHaig! I think I made it pretty clear the last time I saw your ugly face that you ain't welcome here. Now, get off my mother's land or I'll drop you like a dog!"

He eyed the shotgun for a short while, but seemed confident she wasn't really going to use it. "Sweetheart," he said as condescending as he possibly could, "we both know this land won't be your mother's much longer. Denying the future owner a closer look at it will only make the deal less sweet."

"You ain't never gonna get it." Her voice was cold and restrained, despite of all the anger clearly boiling inside her. "It ain't for sale, you know that."

"Oh, it will be."

A shadow of sadness and regret fell across her face for a short second, but was soon replaced by the anger once more. "Piss off!"

What little patience he'd had with her was gone now. His smile fell and his eyes narrowed. "Listen, girl," he hissed, "there's a thing you should know 'bout Carl MacHaig by now: I get what I want. _Always_. That includes your mama's land, and – if I so desire – it also includes _you_."

"I'd shoot off your balls first!" she spat.

This brought his smile back on. "Well, of course you would," he said. "I hear tell you ain't one for balls anyhow." With a chuckle and not at all bothered by the weapon she still hadn't dropped, he mounted his hovercraft and switched the engine on. "See you around, Jo." With a mocking wave he bid her farewell, turned the vehicle around and headed west.

She watched him leave, steaming in her rage for a few minutes. Then her body snapped into action and she hurriedly walked back to the rusty old pickup she'd parked a little further down the road. She got in, threw the shotgun to the passenger seat and slammed the palms of both her hands against the steering wheel, only just able to choke back the scream forming in her throat. Then, after a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, she turned the ignition key and drove off.

Twenty minutes later she stepped inside the combined supply store and post office of New Inverness. The young man behind the counter looked up and acknowledged her with a bright smile. "Good day, Miss Cobb," he greeted her.

"I need to send a wave," she replied, curtly and humorlessly. From the pocket of her coat she produced a small bag of coins which she dropped on the counter. "I can pay."

"Of course," he said, a little warily, and fumbled around for a pen. "The receiver's address, please."

"A cargo ship, Firefly class, called _Serenity._" She paused long enough for him to look up, surprise all over his face, before she added, "Captained by a Malcolm Reynolds."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Serenity, corner of No and Where**_

"Jayne!"

The tone in Kaylee's voice – a mixture of concern and annoyance – made Mal increase his speed as he came down the stairs into the commons. He rounded the corner and popped his head inside the infirmary to find his giant-sized mercenary hovering over Simon Tam. The doctor was cornered at the far end of the little room and looked rather intimidated under the bigger man's angry glare. Kaylee was standing next to Jayne, one hand raised as if she considered putting it on his arm to try and calm him. She didn't, though, which was probably a good thing.

Mal decided to make his presence known. "Jayne," he warned, because he knew that regardless of what the situation really was, Jayne was the one he needed to stop.

Jayne spun around. "He called me fragile, Mal! And _meek, _whatever the hell that means."

Mal raised an eyebrow. "_Clearly _he can't have been talking about _you._"

"I wasn't," Simon said tiredly from his position in the corner.

"He was!" Jayne protested. "I heard 'em. He said 'Jayne' more'n once. 'Jayne is just fragile,' he said. Then _she" – _he pointed at Kaylee – "called me a push-over. And then the doc said I was just a product of my time or some such."

Kaylee rolled her eyes. Mal shifted his attention to Simon, who was now – to be honest – looking more impatient than afraid. "I _was_ talking about Jane," he admitted.

"See?" Jayne exclaimed.

Simon grabbed his reading pad off of the counter next to him and waved it around. "As in Jane _Eyre!_"

Jayne only looked confused as Mal suppressed a sigh. "Yeah, that would explain it," he said. Simon nodded, as did Kaylee, crossing her arms.

Jayne looked from one to the other, frowning. "I don't get it," he muttered. "Who's this Jayne Eyre fella?"

"This Jane Eyre _girl,_" Simon corrected him. "She's a fictional character from Charlotte Brontë's book by the same name. It's one of the most famous works of literature in the history of mankind. _Don't _tell me you've never heard of it?"

The confusion in Jayne's eyes disappeared and was replaced by the angry glare that had been there before. He scowled at Simon, who surely would have taken a step backwards had his back not been against the counter already. "Maybe I got better things to do than readin' books," he snarled. "Where I'm from we spend our time learnin' _useful _skills. For instance how to whup pasty-faced fancy pants such as yourself."

"That's enough, Jayne," Mal said, though a part of him had to agree with the mercenary. Reading books was for rich people.

"But, Cap!" Jayne protested.

"Walk away."

"But…"

"_Walk away._" Mal emphasized the words this time, and with a disapproving snarl, Jayne stepped away from the doctor. Simon opened his mouth to speak, but Mal spun around and poked his index finger at him. "And _you, _don't push it!"

Wash, the pilot, chose that exact moment to enter the room, something that probably in greater capacity than Mal's words stopped the whole situation from escalating any further. "What's up?" he asked, standing in the doorframe.

"A little discussion on literature," Mal replied.

Wash looked a little confounded, but was experienced enough not to ask further questions. "Right," he nodded, sweeping his gaze across the room. "There's a wave for you on the Cortex."

Mal started walking towards the door.

"Not you," Wash clarified. "Jayne."

This even surprised the big man himself, who raised his eyebrows in a quizzical frown. "For me?"

"Yup, just ticked in. Text only."

"Hm." Jayne seemed to have forgotten all about Simon now and headed straight for the door.

"You know how to…?" Wash began as he stepped aside to let him through.

Jayne glared daggers at him as he passed by. "I _can _read!"

Wash instinctively shied away from him. "To operate the Cortex," he finished the sentence and kept a vigilant eye on the mercenary until he'd disappeared around the corner. "Whoa, touchy."

Mal suppressed another sigh. "Please, by all means, go back to your book club," he told Simon and Kaylee, before he stepped out of the infirmary. He gave Wash a nod as he passed him in the doorway but wasn't in the mood for talking, so he continued out into the cargo bay and to his favorite spot there, up on the catwalk.

Less than three weeks had passed since they'd dropped Book off on Haven, the moon back in the Blue Sun system where the shepherd was planning to make a new life for himself, and just like with Inara his departure had affected the crew in unpredictable ways. Especially Jayne, though Mal wasn't sure if it was the preacher's absence alone that had brought on the change in his mercenary.

Jayne had been… _different_ for a while now.

Ever since the incident on New Lafayette three months ago. Or maybe even before that.

Maybe since Ariel. It was difficult to tell.

But the change was there; there was no denying it. It was just hard to pinpoint _exactly _what the change was. Jayne was… No, he wasn't going to use the word 'compliant', because he wasn't. Not really.

'Quiet', maybe? But somehow that sounded wrong, too.

Jayne was…

Alone?

Yes, that was it. The man seemed to be spending a lot of time by himself these days, working out in the cargo bay or locked inside his bunk doing God-knows-what. He socialized less with the rest of the crew, which of course meant fewer fights and confrontations, and yet Mal had felt a surge of relief when he'd heard Jayne and Simon argue.

Because one thing he knew for certain: This new Jayne scared him a lot more than the old one had ever done.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of these gloomy thoughts, and just then he spotted River in the bay beneath. She was moving in between the mostly empty crates stored there, silently as a ghost and gracefully as a ballerina, and he quietly observed this strange dance of hers until she abruptly stopped and disappeared from the room.

And then he thought he'd better go and do some captain-y stuff.

But he was still standing there when Jayne came to find him a short while later. "We'll be on Beaumonde in two days, right?" he asked.

"That's the notion," Mal replied without looking at him. "Why?"

Jayne hesitated, again something that was unlike him. "I'm disembarkin'."

_You too? _were the first words that flashed through Mal's mind, and it surprised him more than a little that it actually hurt him. Out loud he just said, "Any particular reason?"

"Some business I need to take care of."

Only now did Mal turn to look at him and he eyed him closely. "This has something to do with the wave you just received?"

Again Jayne hesitated, but seemed to come to the conclusion that lying would be both futile and unnecessary now. "It's from my sister," he said. "I'm needed at home." It didn't look like the prospect of going home brought him any joy, though.

Mal nodded. "Your home world's Paquin, right?"

"Yup."

"It's a long way from Beaumonde to Paquin."

"I'll find a ride."

"I'm sure you will. So," Mal straightened, "what's the deal?"

Jayne's eyes narrowed just a little as his face turned into a mask of suspicion. "Nothing special," he answered. "Just a low-life scumbag buggin' my mother. I have to deal with him."

"And how are you planning to _deal _with him?"

Jayne shrugged. "Shoot 'im."

"Right," Mal nodded again, then went down the stairs to the control panel by the bay doors and pushed the button on intercom. "Wash, plot a new course. Head for Paquin."

"Hey!" Jayne shouted from up on the catwalk. "This is my business, stay out of it!"

"No worries," Mal called back. "I'm just giving you a ride. Not plannin' to get caught up in your family affairs." He headed up the stairs again. "I'm lookin' for work. Might as well look on Paquin."

"Well, you ain't gonna find nothin' in New Inverness," Jayne gloomily said. "Ain't nothin' there but junk, blood and brawls."

"Sounds _exactly _like my kind of business," the captain grinned. "Now, why don't you go and tell the crew to join us in the galley? Might wanna inform them of the change of plans."

* * *

><p>Zoë knew her captain better than to believe him when he said he was simply giving Jayne a ride. This was his way of offering Jayne a hand, and Zoë suspected even Jayne knew – at least on some level. She silently agreed with him though, as they were all sitting around the kitchen table listening to Jayne's story – the mercenary was part of their crew (and on good days she might even say that she liked him), <em>his <em>problems were _their_ problems, and it was important to help him. But it was equally important to be discreet about it.

"Name's MacHaig," Jayne told them, "and my folks's homestead's next to his. He's had his eyes on it for years, and now he's worse than ever. He's lookin' to have it auctioned off so he can buy it for next to nothin'. My pop died 'bout ten months back, and the _hundan_ knows my mother's strugglin' to pay off her debts now that she ain't got his income no more."

"Your poppa died?" Kaylee exclaimed. "You never told us that."

"Weren't none of your business," Jayne muttered. "Anyways, I need to go home."

"Of course you do," Simon said, warily and not unkindly. "In times like these a man's place is with his family."

"Yeah," Jayne nodded, after he'd studied the doctor a little, as if he tried to find out whether the young man was making fun of him or not. Then he turned to look at Mal. "So you can take me there. But you stay out of it." He eyed the rest of them. "All of you!"

"But of course we'll help you, Jayne," Kaylee, who did not possess the captain's tact and discretion when it came to lending a hand, insisted. "After all, we're your family too."

"The hell you're not!" the mercenary spat back, but his eyes flickered and he couldn't quite look at her as he said it.

"Sounds like a pretty bad situation," Zoë remarked, mostly to stop Kaylee from feeding the fire.

"It is. Jo wouldn't have waved me if it weren't so."

"Jo's your sister?" Mal verified more than asked. Jayne nodded.

Zoë felt Wash tense up next to her and when she turned to look at him, she saw something sparkle to life in his eyes. "Your sister's name is Jo?" he asked.

"Yes," Jayne replied, a little impatiently.

"Is that short for Joanne or Josephine or…?" There was a hint of amusement in the pilot's voice and Zoë closed her eyes for a second, sensing what was a brewing.

Jayne frowned. "Nah, it's just Jo."

Wash could barely contain his growing grin. "So your parents called their son Jayne and their daughter Jo?"

Jayne's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, what about it?"

Wash threw his hands up. "Nothing, nothing," he said, leaning back, but his amusement was more than evident now. Next to him, a small snicker escaped Simon as well. Jayne scowled at them both. Zoë poked her husband under the table, but she _did _have some trouble keeping a straight face herself.

"Anyways," Mal broke in, "it'll take us nearly a week to get there. Best go about with your business until then, people."

Jayne immediately pushed his chair back and headed for the door. Zoë, who still struggled to keep from laughing, turned towards Simon. "Ever been to Paquin, Doc?" she asked him.

"No," he shook his head, "I've never had the… _pleasure_." He threw a quick glance at River, who sat across the table from him, seemingly lost to the world, before he added, "Home of the Wild Dog, right?"

Jayne, who had reached the doorway, stopped and looked back at him over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming with re-found joy for teasing. "Yeah," he said. "Ain't no sissies growin' up there."


	3. Chapter 3

Paquin was a fairly big, fairly populated planet orbiting the protostar Heinlein in the Red Sun system. After its terraforming process had finished about a hundred years ago, most people had settled on the southern hemisphere and as such most of the major cities had popped up there. New Inverness however was located on the opposite side, on the northern continent, which had less and a more scattered population, and was mostly known for its vast forests.

This was also the home of the infamous wild dog that most people in the 'verse associated the name Paquin with. It was rumored to have been supposed to be a dingo, a canine originating from the Australian continent back on Earth-That-Was, but something had gone horribly wrong during the recreation process and the result was an animal three times as big and ten times as malevolent. But like with any of their other mishaps, the Alliance had never actually confirmed it. Anyway, the dog thrived in the forests of Paquin, and even though it shied away from civilization and rarely left the woods, hundreds of domestic animals and several people were killed by it every year. The fact that it also bred like rabbits had made it impossible to exterminate – or at least the authorities had long since given up on the task.

The towns of these inhospitable northern parts of the planet were smaller and much less developed than the cities in the south, and the town of New Inverness was no exception. With a population of about 5 000 it had grown up around a wood processing factory, but had changed little in its fifty years of existence. The railroad connected it to the bigger towns at the coast, but few strangers ever came here and least of all space ships. And so when _Serenity _landed on a meadow just outside the town line, people immediately flocked around it.

Jayne had grown gradually more agitated during the week the trip had taken them, and now as he stood in the cargo bay waiting for the doors to open, there was a darkness in his eyes that even scared Mal a little.

It didn't stop Kaylee, though. "Are you excited to be back home?" she asked.

Mal cocked an eyebrow. Jayne looked anything but excited. And the mercenary did reply with a snort.

The mechanic kept trying. "Sure looks nice."

"It's a dump," Jayne snapped. "It was a dump when I left it, it was a dump when I last came by ten years ago and I bet it's a dump still."

"You haven't been home in _ten years_?" Kaylee exclaimed.

Jayne shrugged. "Never had the occasion."

"But they're your family!"

Jayne turned to glare at her, and Kaylee wisely kept quiet after that.

Zoë pushed the button and the bay doors opened, and Mal threw a sideways glance at his hired muscle as they and the rest of the crew stepped off the boat. Jayne looked like a moody cowboy in his green jacket and a broad brimmed hat, and showed no interest in the crowd that had gathered to greet them outside. People seemed to sense this and they scattered to give him a wide berth as he walked passed them, but Mal heard his name being muttered several times; "It's Jayne." – "It's Jayne Cobb." – "Jayne Cobb's come back." But the only time Jayne would look at them was when somebody stepped too close and had to be scowled back into place.

"So," Mal said as they came to a rest a few paces away from the ship. He looked from the people looking back at them but still keeping their distance, to the town itself. "Where does your family live?"

"My mama's place is a few miles south of here," Jayne replied and nodded in said direction. "Don't rightly know where my sister Jude's house's at, though. She married some guy and moved."

The way he said 'some guy' suggested that he was well aware of who this guy was, and that he did _not_ approve.

Wash started giggling, and when Zoë turned to give him a warning look, he exclaimed: "But come on! The other sister's name is _Jude. _You've _got_ to be kidding me!"

To Jayne's credit he chose to ignore the pilot. "That's the factory," he said instead, nodding – quite needlessly – towards the only large building in town. "That's where… well, _everybody_ works. My pop worked there. And so did my brother while he still could."

"There's a brother too?" Wash asked joyfully. "What's _his_ name? Jill?"

"No, it's Mattie," Jayne answered, the joke totally lost on him.

"Jayne?" somebody said.

Finally a voice that Jayne deemed it worth reacting to. He abruptly stopped and turned around, and Mal and the others followed his lead.

A woman was making her way through the crowd with long and determined steps, and Mal studied her with interest as she came towards them. She was tall, really tall, at least six feet, her dark brown hair was combed back and braided and she wore a flannel shirt tucked in her pants and a long leather coat.

Jayne straightened at the sight of her, showed off his full height (and he _was _still considerably taller), but his face gave away no emotions. "Jo," he flatly greeted.

She stopped in front of him and looked at him rather disbelievingly. "_Now _you show up?" she said, and everybody could hear there was a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"You asked me to," Jayne replied, clearly a little confounded.

"That's the point, Jayne," she said. "I shouldn't have to _ask. _To _beg. _And, honestly, I didn't think you'd actually come."

Mal half expected Jayne to give her one of his snappy, defensive comments, but somehow this woman possessed that amazing skill it took to keep him quiet.

"Where were you when Pop died?" she continued. "When you were really needed?"

Jayne finally found his voice. "I wasn't exactly in the neighborhood," he spat back.

Jo seemed to soften up a bit. "Sorry," she said and a tiny smile spread across her lips. "And I _am _glad to see you, you ape."

He smiled too and they finally embraced. Still with one arm around her, he patted her cheek. "You look good," he said. But then his smile died and he looked at her with concern on his face. "Is it really that bad?"

"That _qingwa cao de liumang _won't leave us alone," she said, seemingly not bothered by the fact that she and her brother were surrounded by strangers as she spoke. "And we ain't got the money. And we miss Pop, and then Mattie…"

"Mattie?" Jayne repeated, his concern even more evident now.

She looked sad. "He ain't bouncin' back from this one, Jayne."

A moment of awkward silence fell between them. Then Mal coughed a little and Jayne was awoken from his reverie. He gave the captain an annoyed scowl, but stepped aside to introduce the woman. "This is my sister."

"Hi," Kaylee said and waved at her.

Jo smiled and looked at Jayne. "Is this the crew?"

"That they are," Mal said and stepped forward. "And I'm captain Mal Reynolds."

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Jo," she said and clasped his hand. Her handshake was strong, so strong that it made Simon flinch and Wash yelp with pain when she shook their hands as well. She tried offering her hand to River too, but the girl was busy looking at her surroundings with that distant curiosity of hers and ignored it, so Jo just shrugged and turned back towards her brother.

"Let's get you home to Ma," she said. "She's gonna flip when she sees you." She looked at Mal. "You guys taggin' along?"

"No, they're…," Jayne began.

"We'd love to," Mal said.

"…not," Jayne finished and directed another angry scowl at him.

"Come on then," Jo said and led the way to an old-fashioned pickup truck parked by the road. "Hop on," she admonished, nodding towards the truck's bed.

Kaylee, Zoë and Wash immediately followed her instructions, but Simon hesitated. "Shouldn't somebody maybe stay with the ship?" he asked.

"It's locked," Mal said as he too mounted the vehicle. "No need."

"And my and Kaylee's personally fitted alarm system is on and operating," Wash added. "If anyone tries to steal it… boy, they're in for a surprise."

Kaylee giggled. Simon sighed and grabbed his sister, gently steering her towards the car. "Great," Mal heard him mumble as helped River up on it, "more Cobbs."

Jayne rode shotgun with his sister, and Mal had no way of knowing what the two of them talked about during the ride, or if they talked at all. It had to be weird, meeting someone for the first time in ten years, your own blood, someone you were supposed to be this close to, someone you knew and at the same time didn't know.

A sense of sadness suddenly engulfed him. It dawned on him that he'd never know that awkward feeling, as all of his own relatives were now dead. The Reynolds were all gone, and so was Shadow, and there was no going back. Ever.

He had to take a deep breath to steady himself. Funny, he'd thought he'd stopped feeling sentimental about this. He looked around and his eyes came to a rest on Zoë, and he remembered that her situation was very much like his. She had no family left either, except for Wash of course.

And the Tams… _Their_ parents had disowned them, which he guessed was even worse. Well, at least they had each other.

He shifted his gaze to Kaylee and saw the broad grin on her face as she looked at the landscape, and felt how most of the sadness melted away at that sight.

Because what really defined a family and didn't he still have one?

"Oh, it's so cute!" Kaylee exclaimed as the pickup came to a rest in front of a little wooden house right at the forest edge. Mal silently agreed with her. It was a nice, two story house – not grand, but well-kept and welcoming. There was also a barn on the other side of the yard and a big oak tree dominated the little garden.

Jo jumped out of the car almost as soon as it stopped. "Ma!" she yelled. "Ma, come on out! Come see who's here!"

And out she came, the woman who sent Jayne letters and funny hats. And she looked _nothing _like Mal had expected her to.

The mental image he'd had of Jayne's mother had varied between an apple cheeked grey-haired granny and a huge woman with a beard (obviously because Jayne was huge and had a beard), but the woman who stepped out of the house matched neither of these descriptions. In fact, it was quite clear that Jayne and Jo's impressive physical height would have to come from their father's side of the family, because their mother was quite the opposite, of a rather slight build. She was also… well, kind of _young – _or younger than expected; Mal would guess she was probably not _that _many years older than himself. Her eyes grew wide as Jayne rounded the car and came to a halt in front of it, as if too ashamed to go any further.

"Jayne?" she gasped and ran towards him. And when she reached him, Jayne didn't hold back. He threw his arms around her and embraced her with a tenderness Mal would never have thought him able to show if he hadn't been there to see it himself.

"Hello, Ma," he said and his voice actually shook a little.

"Jayne, is it really you?" she asked and reached up to cup his face in her hands.

"Yeah, it's him alright," Jo grinned.

Mama Cobb was finally able to tear her eyes away from her son and shift her attention to Mal, who had climbed down from the truck with the rest of his crew, but kept a respectful distance to the whole reunion scene. "Who's this?" she asked.

"The captain and the crew," Jo replied.

"They're just droppin' me off," Jayne added.

"Mrs Cobb," Mal nodded his greeting.

She smiled and stepped a little closer. "So you're the captain," she said. "I've been hearing about you."

"Good things, I hope."

"Well, that too." She kept smiling. Mal liked that smile. It was warm and welcoming, just like the house, and one hundred per cent real. "I'm Radiant. Welcome, all of you. Please, come inside."

Behind her back Jayne frowned a little, but he didn't voice any complaints and they all started walking towards the house. Mal was suddenly aware of a young man standing on the porch and once he'd laid his eyes on him, it was difficult to look away just because of how sick he looked. He too was tall, but scrawny and kind of hunched over, and even from this distance Mal could see how pale he was. Jayne had seen him as well and even if he _did _try to hide the shock, it was still quite evident on his face.

"Hiya, Jayne," the man said with a tired half-smile caressing his bluish lips.

"Mattie," Jayne greeted back, sounding a little uncomfortable. "You've… you've grown."

"Of course I have, you moron. I was still a kid when you last saw me." He coughed, and then the cough turned into more coughing that nearly had him doubled over by the time it was over. Mal instinctively looked towards Simon and saw that the young man already had that doctor look in his eyes.

"I'll go fetch Jude," Jo said, and broke the uncomfortable silence that had followed the coughing fit. She headed back towards the pickup, just as a man emerged from the barn. He was middle aged – Mal would guess about sixty – and wore the traditional tartan kilt, and he came up to them, nodding to Jayne.

"Well, I thought I heard your name, boy," he said humorlessly, eyeing him up and down. "Didn't quite believe it, though. But here you are."

Jayne was clearly surprised to see him. "Uncle? What you doing here?"

"I'm the head of the family now," the man bitterly replied. "As it seems that's a job _you _don't want."

Jayne's eyes narrowed, but Radiant was quick to step in between the two men, dissolving the situation before it got out of hand. "Obadiah, please," she said to the older man. "Don't… He's here now." She turned back towards her son and smiled. "He's home now."


	4. Chapter 4

Obadiah was, as it turned out, the brother of Jayne's late father, and now it was undeniably clear to Mal that Jayne got his physical appearance from that side of the family, as he happened to end up in between him and his uncle as they stepped inside the house and for a moment felt terribly small.

The house was nice, simple but neat. The ground floor consisted of a small kitchen and a common room, and as Mal took in the details they immediately stirred to life a memory of a certain prairie home long gone. A bolt of sadness washed through him, but he didn't allow himself to dwell in it and tried to shake it.

Kaylee was positively bubbling with excitement and happily telling Jayne and his mother how much she loved this and that and nearly everything there. Radiant smiled at her, and Mal also saw how she discreetly studied each and every one of them in turn, as if trying to get a clear picture of what they were all about. He understood her perfectly, you could learn a lot about a person from their reactions when they stepped inside your home.

Zoë, for instance, kept to the background and found herself a place in a corner, her back against the wall. A good advantage point, and Mal wondered exactly how consciously she had picked that particular spot. She was being polite and seemingly relaxed, but she was on the alert, as she always was meeting new people.

Wash shared none of her reservation. He had already settled and made himself comfortable in the old sofa, from where he tried to strike up a conversation with Obadiah Cobb about the older man's kilt. He didn't get much response though.

River was circling the room, intently studying every object with that glassy look in her eyes, and Simon hovered around her, prying things from her hands whenever she picked something up and constantly tried to get her to sit down on a chair by the eating table.

And Jayne… Jayne was suddenly hard to read. At first he was just standing there, as if feeling out of place, and Mal wondered again how strange it had to feel, stepping over a threshold and into your past like this, into a home that hadn't changed at all but still wasn't the same…

Seriously, he _had_ to stop thinking about Shadow!

In the end the mercenary decided to join his younger brother, who had taken up a chair by the fireplace, but their conversation seemed to limit itself to a few standard phrases.

Mal swept his eyes across the room once more and suddenly a small chuckle escaped him. He tried to quell it, but Radiant, who just then happened to walk by on her way to the kitchen, still heard him and stopped to look quizzically at him.

"I'm sorry," he said, smiling a little, and lifted his hand in an apologetic manner. "It just suddenly dawned on me that we've gotta be the strangest crew you ever saw."

She returned the smile. "You seem alright." And then she, after keeping her eyes on him for a few moments, added, "Thank you."

He looked at her.

"For bringin' my boy home," she clarified.

"Don't mention it," he said. "I owed him a favor."

She offered another smile and went on her way, and he followed her into the kitchen and watched as she opened a cupboard and pulled out a box of coffee substitute. "I'm sorry about your loss," he said and added, perhaps a little needlessly, "Your husband."

"Thank you," she replied without looking at him, but she did pause a little in her task of opening the box.

"He didn't tell us," Mal continued. "If he had, I'd've brought him here sooner."

"They…," she began, before she managed to get the lid off the box and turned to face him. "They didn't part on the best of terms, last time he was here."

Mal suddenly felt rather uncomfortable, as if he was overstepping his boundaries, and so he went over to the window to look outside while Radiant continued with her coffee brewing. "You've got a nice place here," he said, leading the conversation in another direction.

"That I've got," she agreed and there was a smile in her voice. "My own little slice o' heaven. Came cheap too. People don't wanna live here 'cause of the dogs, and they were practically handing out land for free when Matthew and I came here forty years ago."

"You cultivate it?"

"No. That was the plan initially, but we never got around to it. Matthew got a job down at the factory and…" She stopped and he turned back towards her, again wondering if he'd asked too much, but she smiled bravely when she saw that he was looking at her. "Now it's just too big a task for us. Ain't got the money or the manpower for it. It's just me and Jo, you see. Obadiah's only here to help me get back on my feet, and Mattie can't work 'cause he's sick." She retrieved several mugs from the cupboard and placed them on the kitchen counter, adding, "It's his lungs."

Mal nodded. "Has he been sick long?"

"Always." Upon seeing his confused frown, she elaborated, "He's had good days and bad days. But now I'm afraid it seems the bad days are winning."

Mal was about to answer when River suddenly came bursting through the door and started circling the room, picking up random objects to study them as she had done in the living room before. Then she suddenly came to a stop next to the kitchen table and turned to look intently at Radiant.

"River!" Simon came in after her and hurriedly put his hands on her shoulders to try and steer her back outside.

Radiant only met the young girl's stare and smiled. "You've come to give me a hand, love?" she said. "Here, why don't you take these out to the others?" She picked up a couple of the mugs and offered them to River, who after smiling that half-shy smile that ever so often would soften up her features, grabbed them and headed back out through the door.

Simon hurried after her and Mal watched them leave, but he was suddenly aware that Radiant now had shifted her focus to him, and turned to face her. Her eyes were still smiling. "You're right," she said. "You _are_ a strange crew."

* * *

><p>The atmosphere in the Cobb house was still a little awkward as they drank their coffee (or the sour blackish liquid that went by that name in these parts of the 'verse), but for some reason Mal felt strangely relaxed there. He honestly didn't know why, but didn't bother wondering about that now. It was better to just sit there and enjoy the calm; experience had taught him it would not last.<p>

Glancing over at Zoë, he saw that her shoulders had slumped considerably; she was now in the sofa next to her husband. River had stopped moving around and instead taken up a footstool, from which she kept Mattie Cobb under close observation. If the young man noticed this, and he probably did, he didn't seem particularly bothered by it. Simon was throwing little glances at him as well, obviously fighting the inner doctor who told him to start asking probing questions. But he respectfully kept his distance for now.

Radiant was sitting next to Jayne. The two of them were having a hushed conversation, and Mal could see that even though Jayne still seemed to feel slightly out of place, he was glad to be with his mother. Mal never meant to listen in on them, but he still picked up a few words now and then. He heard her remark on the faint scars on Jayne's face and arms, and was thankful his mercenary had his shirt on so she couldn't see how many of them there really were. He wondered what Jayne had told her, about how he earned his money. He doubted it was the truth.

In the end Jayne was tired of the prodding questions and started asking some himself. "You alright, Ma?" Mal heard him say. "You know I'd send more money, if I had any."

"I know, sweetie," she replied. "And I'm fine."

"MacHaig trynna take your property?" Jayne spoke a little louder now, and the rest of the room happened to be rather quiet at that point, and so everybody heard him and shifted their attention to him and his mother.

Radiant looked uncomfortable, but she still smiled. "'Course he does, love, he always have. He ain't gonna get it, though."

"Jo said in her wave he's plannin' to force a sale. That he's puttin' pressure on the bank."

"Jo waved ya?"

"Yeah, she didn't tell?"

In that very moment Jo walked in through the door. "Of course I didn't," she said to Jayne. "She would've told me not to. And you wouldn't have come if I hadn't." She turned to her mother. "And that _hundan_ _is _buggin' ya, Ma. Don't tell him otherwise."

"The bank management has been very understandable," Radiant insisted.

"Yeah, but for how long?" Obadiah gloomily asked from his position on the other side of the room. "MacHaig's got half the town in his pocket, including the banker. What he wants, he gets and what he ain't gettin', he takes. That's how it works."

A moment of pregnant silence followed. Mal decided to weigh in. "Why does he want your land?" he asked, ignoring the warning glare Jayne sent him.

"I don't know," Radiant replied. "He's already bought up everything else around here. His property's more or less surrounding mine."

"Must be a reason why he wants it," Zoë said. Obadiah nodded his silent agreement.

Mal sensed Jayne shifting in his chair and threw him a short glance, before looking back at Radiant. "How much do you owe?"

"'Bout five hundred credits. I know it don't sound like much, but…"

"When you ain't got it, they just as well coulda asked for a moon," Mal finished for her.

She nodded. "The factory don't pay well, but it was a steady income. After Matthew passed away…"

Jayne tensed at the mention of his father, Mal saw it and so did Radiant, because she stopped talking and looked mildly at her son. He looked away.

Mal decided it was safe to pry some more. "What happened, if you don't mind my askin'?"

"Accident," Jo answered. "At least that's what they tell us."

"Jo," her mother warned.

Jo sighed. "He was doing maintenance work on one of the machines down at the factory. And then it went on. With him inside."

Wash grimaced, Kaylee clasped a hand over her mouth and Simon closed his eyes for a while as if trying to shed the images of a man crushed to death.

"I'm sorry," Mal said again.

"Well, this ain't none of your business, anyhow," Jayne snarled.

"Jayne!" his mother scolded. "They mean no harm." She looked at Mal. "He's right, though. These are _my _troubles. I 'preciate the sympathy, but you needn't worry yourselves with this. I suspect you've got more than enough of your own."

Mattie broke the silence that followed with another of his coughing fits, and Simon was no longer able to just sit back and watch. Mal watched as he went into doctor mode and crouched down next to the young man to talk to him. It had caught Radiant's attention too, and she was halfway out of her chair when Jayne spoke, "It's alright, Ma. He's a doctor." He didn't even look up, only stared at his hands.

Mal raised his eyebrows. Now, _this _was surprising.

Radiant sat back down and looked at Jo again. "You didn't bring Jude?"

"She'll come by later. She had to wait 'til Fergus' shift is over."

Jayne snorted. Jo glared at him. "He's a good man, Jayne! He helps us out a lot, even though he's got his own family to worry 'bout. You haven't been here in ten gorram years, so don't you go thinkin' you know a damn thing 'bout any of us!"

Jayne gritted his teeth, but still didn't look up. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Jo kept her eyes on him for a moment or two, then turned to her mother. "She'd heard the rumor, it's all over town. I still had some trouble convincin' her it's true." She smiled a little. "She'll be here by suppertime. She'll bring the kids."

Kaylee brightened. "There's children?"

Jo nodded. "Yeah." She patted the back of Jayne's head. "The nephew and niece you ain't never laid your eyes on."

A smile spread across Radiant's face. "All my kids home for supper," she said. "Can't even remember the last time _that_ happened."

Jayne got to his feet. So suddenly and determined that everybody flinched a little and looked at him in surprise. "Where'd you put him?" he asked.

* * *

><p>Zoë was standing outside the house, by the southwest corner, with her arms crossed and her eyes observantly watching Jayne as he paid his respects to his late father. The grave was beneath a tree at the far end of the garden, by the forest edge, and he stood there silently, with his back against her, his hands in his pockets, watching the stone.<p>

Zoë was normally more than happy to _not_ know what was going on inside Jayne's mind, but right now she had to admit she was wondering what he was thinking. It had always been clear to her that Jayne had never been particularly close to his daddy, but she guessed he still felt some sort of loss, like a piece of his past had died too. She would now; she had lost parents herself.

But to Zoë grief was personal, and she had never been one to visit gravesites. Her mother and father were not in the ground. They had been space buried – like Travelers mostly were, before one of the Alliance's many laws had put an end to this tradition – and were now drifting forever through the Black in their pods. She liked that thought, and law or no law, this was how she wanted to spend eternity herself. She had been born and raised shipside, she had always belonged to the sky.

She glanced upwards and saw Paquin's two largest moons, Shinbone and Clawthorne, hanging in the sky to the west, and for once she allowed herself to be swept away by the memories of childhood. She doubted she was the only one of the crew doing precisely that today.

"Zo'."

The voice awoke her from her reminiscing and she turned to acknowledge her captain with a nod as he stepped up to her. Mal quietly watched Jayne a little while, and then without taking his eyes away from the mercenary, he said, "This accident at the factory…"

She understood. "Sounds fishy, I know," she agreed.

"Exactly," he said, still not looking at her. "Tomorrow I want you to take Wash and head into town, see if you can dig somethin' up."

"Alright."

He turned to leave, but stopped. "It goes without sayin' that you don't go mentioning this to Jayne."

"Of course, sir," she said, and with one last look at her crewmate, she turned and followed the captain back inside.


	5. Chapter 5

So at least one of Radiant Cobb's children had inherited her looks.

That's what flashed through Zoë's mind when she first saw Jude, or Judith as her full name was. At around thirty years old, she was small and slender, and with a certain shyness about her that made her look even smaller. She arrived at the house with her husband, a decent looking kind of man who introduced himself as Fergus Campbell, and their two kids, a five-year-old boy and a baby girl, and she threw herself at Jayne, planting a kiss on his cheek, with such affection that only an adoring baby sister could show. Jayne responded by hugging her with the same tenderness he'd shown his mother.

He was a little standoffish towards the rest of the little family, though. He politely shook the hand of his brother-in-law, but didn't look him in the eye, and he glared at the children as if they were little bombs that could blow up in his face at any time. The feeling was mutual, at least with the older one, whose name was Finnegan. He stared at his 'uncle Jayne' with undisguised suspicion and then ran to his grandmother for protection. Wise kid.

Radiant had insisted that the crew of _Serenity _should stay for supper, and so they were all together fifteen people crammed into the tiny living room that night, too many to be seated around one table, but they had somehow managed to find sufficient room for everybody. Mattie, for instance, stayed in his chair by the fireplace, eating off a tray in his lap, and River apparently had decided she should stay on the footstool next to him, or at least Simon hadn't been able to get her to sit anywhere else.

There was definitely no shortage of food; Radiant had managed to produce an impressively massive feast in that little kitchen of hers, mostly potatoes and some sort of meat. Jayne was eating like he hadn't had a decent meal in years, and come to think of it he probably hadn't; the awkwardness of suddenly being home certainly hadn't ruined his appetite. It made Zoë smile a little, and when she noticed that even Mal was eating a lot more than usual, the smile grew even wider. It was good to see her captain so relaxed.

And it wasn't just the captain. Everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves tonight. Wash had talked Jo into sharing funny childhood stories about Jayne, and when she'd first gotten started there was no stopping her, and she soon had them all in stitches, in spite of all the angry glares Jayne threw at her.

Kaylee was constantly distracted by little Abigail, Jude's and Fergus' baby girl, who was seated opposite the table from her. "She's gotta be the cutest baby _ever_," she declared for the umpteenth time. "Simon, don't you think she's just adorable?"

The doctor was the only one in the room who didn't look comfortable. He kept glancing over his shoulder at River and Mattie, and all this baby talk from Kaylee didn't exactly seem to calm him. "Uh, yes, yes that she is," he said, and then turn to address Radiant, "A fine meal, Mrs Cobb," he said, ever so courteous.

"Hear, hear," Wash said, overlapping Mal's "Absolutely."

Zoë silently concurred; it did taste good. "What is it?" she asked.

"Dog," Radiant smiled.

Simon, who'd just taken a sip from his cup, choked on the water and coughed hard, and Kaylee tore her eyes away from the baby long enough to pound him on his back.

Mal had raised his eyebrows. "As in wild dog?"

"Yes," Radiant nodded.

Simon eventually managed to regain his ability to breathe and talk. "You _eat _it?" he exclaimed, his subtlety and politeness suddenly gone.

"Why not?" Jo shrugged. "They eat _us_."

Zoë smiled. What Jayne lacked in wit, his sister clearly possessed. "So you hunt it?" she asked.

"That we do," Jo replied. "It's the one thing Paquin never runs outta."

Fergus nodded, pointing to his sister-in-law with his thumb. "Jo here's the best hunter in town," he stated.

Jo shrugged again. "And if I'd been a man I might've been admired for it too."

Zoë sent her a sympathetic smile.

Simon was only staring wide-eyed at his plate as if the simple knowledge of what he'd been eating made him queasy, and Kaylee poked him not-so-discreetly with her elbow to snap him out of it.

"A dog wags its tail when it's happy," River said from her place by the fire, and they all turned to look at her. "A cow does the same, but to swat at flies."

"Exactly," Mattie smiled, amusement heavy in his voice. He was looking at the girl with a certain… Zoë wasn't sure what to call it. Fascination, perhaps? Just not the creepy kind.

Jayne mumbled something. Nobody heard what.

"So," Wash said, to break the following silence he obviously found uncomfortable, "hunting wild dogs… Sounds dangerous."

"It can be," Jo agreed. "If you're not constantly on top of things. You have to do it at night, 'cause they only come out when it's dark."

Radiant shook her head. "I don't like her doing it. But it's a good way to make money."

"It's the _only _way to make money," Jo corrected her. "If you don' wanna work at the factory."

"I think it sounds like fun," Zoë said, and smiled apologetic at her husband when he frowned at the statement.

Jo sent her a smile. "It's fun too," she said. "I'll take you, if you wanna. Tomorrow night."

Zoë grinned. Something about this place and setting made her feel like a little kid again. Her eyes flashed to her captain and he smiled broadly and lifted his glass at her in a salute. "I'd love to," she said.

* * *

><p>Simon stood in the infirmary and observed his patient with a worried frown. He hadn't thought the short walk would wear him out this much. After supper the night before, Mal had sent Wash and Kaylee with Jo back to town to fetch <em>Serenity; <em>the ship was now parked on the field next to the Cobb home, less than two hundred yards from the house itself, and yet walking that short distance had proved to be more than sufficient to deprive Mattie Cobb of all his strength. Only after Simon had hooked him up to a nasal cannula and fed him oxygen through it, combined with half an hour rest on the operation table, did the bluish tinge on his face begin to fade and the coloring return to the 'normal' sickly pale.

"I'm sorry," Simon said again. "I shouldn't have made you walk."

"You didn't _make _me do anything," Mattie pointed out. He spoke slowly, he was still panting a little. "People mostly don't realize how bad it really is, and sometimes I forget too. It's okay, I'm fine."

_You're not fine, _Simon thought, but he realized what the man meant and didn't say it out loud. "How long has it been like this?" he asked instead.

"Like this bad? A year or so." He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the table. "It's been bad before, but I usually bounce back. But not this time."

"And you've never seen a doctor before?"

Mattie turned towards him and raised one eyebrow. "This is New Inverness," he said. "Don't know how much of the town you saw, but it don't exactly have shiny medical facilities lined up."

"Of course," Simon muttered. He sighed inwardly; he'd done it again, forgotten for a moment that not everyone had grown up the way he had.

"Poppa used to take me to any doctor, self-taught healer and charlatan that passed through here," Mattie continued. "They diagnosed me with anything from pneumonia and TB to whooping cough and damp lung. Don't think none of them knew what they were talkin' 'bout, though."

Simon nodded and put on his stethoscope. "Let's see if they were. Please take off your shirt."

He did, and it became clear that he was even skinnier than at first glance. One could easily make out the ribs and the spine, and the doctor wondered again if Mattie would have looked like Jayne if he'd been healthy. It was hard to imagine.

"Sounds like a good man, your father," he said as he rubbed the stethoscope against his shirt to heat it. "Not giving up on you like that."

"That's what fathers do, ain't it?" Mattie said.

"I guess," Simon replied, and tried hard not to think about his own. He put the stethoscope to the other man's back and instructed him to take a deep breath. "Then exhale slowly," he continued, and the frown on his face grew. Something was definitely wrong. "It sounds like there's liquid in your lungs," he said. "Do you often get infections? Fevers?"

"Yeah, 'specially in the winter."

"I see." Simon pulled the stethoscope from his ears. "I'll have to do further tests. We'll do a scan and draw some blood, if you're okay with it."

"Sure," Mattie said. "And thanks."

His politeness almost surprised Simon a little. It was getting increasingly harder to believe that this man was really Jayne's brother.

He turned to prepare his equipment, contemplating the lucky coincidence that he actually had a high-tech scanner at hand. They had spent some of the money they'd stolen from Badger on giving the infirmary a little face-lift, which in Simon's mind was only reasonable, seeing as he was the one who had come up with the plan for the heist in the first place. The rest was set aside for a new mule when the opportunity to buy one came along.

He picked up the needle for a blood sample and turned back towards his patient, just as Mattie shifted a little on the table.

And there it was. Something about the way his mouth twitched as he turned his head. And it made Simon stare until Mattie became aware and looked up at him. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Simon said, shaking his head. "It's just that I suddenly saw some of Jayne in you. You're not very much alike," he added helpfully.

"Well, you tell me," Mattie replied. "You probably know 'im better than I do." And when Simon gave him a puzzled look, he elaborated, "He's fourteen years older than me. I was still a baby when he left."

"I see," Simon said again. He found a suitable vein in Mattie's right arm, pinched him with the needle and started filling his sample container with blood.

"What's wrong with River?" Mattie suddenly asked him.

Simon threw him a short glance. "She's been through some trauma," he said as he pulled the needle from the arm, not wanting to delve into all the details at this point.

Mattie seemed satisfied with the answer, or at least he didn't press the matter. "She seems nice," was all he said.

Simon eyed him, disbelieving and amazed.

Definitely not like Jayne.

* * *

><p>Jayne found his sister Jo in the garden. She was working on one of the furs she had laid out to dry in the sun, and for a few moments he stayed back to just watch her from a distance. She was the only one of his siblings he'd ever been close to. They'd been like peas in a pod once, the two of them. And seeing this place again, and her, stirred long forgotten memories to life. It was like every little detail around here reminded him of places he'd been and things he'd been doing.<p>

With Jo.

A long time ago.

But he wasn't one for nostalgic reminiscing, and so he soon enough cleared his mind of these unfamiliar feelings and stepped up to her.

It was a quiet morning. Zoë and Wash had gone into town, apparently to look for work, but Jayne wasn't really buying it. Hadn't he made it abundantly clear to Mal that there were no jobs to be had in New Inverness, unless you had an unhealthy yearning for processing wood in a factory? The captain himself was busy doing some chores on the homestead he for some reason had offered to do, Kaylee made use of the opportunity to do some maintenance work on _Serenity, _and Simon had taken Mattie to the infirmary.

Jo looked over her shoulder at him as he approached her. "Morning," she greeted him.

He didn't reply, only handed her the rifle he was carrying. She took it, studied it, weighed it in her hands, got the feel of it – just like he did whenever he was presented with new weapons. "Nice," was the verdict.

"Sure is," he said. "Got it from a man on Ezra a few months back." He didn't bother mentioning that he'd _killed_ the man in question. Not that it hadn't been a fair fight, or not that Jo wouldn't understand, it just didn't seem all that important.

"Does it kick?" she asked.

"A little. Not more than you can handle."

"Not more than I can…?" She looked at him.

"It's a gift," he verified.

Her face broke into a smile. "Thanks."

It wasn't his best gun, but it wasn't the worst either, and he'd thought of Jo the moment he'd picked it up. It seemed to fit her somehow.

She lifted it, checked out the scope, and just then they both became aware of River wandering about in one of the floral beds nearby. She was looking intently at the half-withered flowers, sometimes bending down to sniff one of them.

Jo lowered the gun and nodded towards the moonbrain. "What's _her _story?"

Jayne grunted. "The Alliance dug her brains out or some such."

Jo turned back towards him, shocked. "What? Why?"

"Dunno. Made her stir crazy. They want her back too, badly. That's why they're on the run, she and her brother."

"Really? Fugees?"

"Yup."

She smirked. "And you haven't even tried to sell 'em out for a reward."

He was suddenly very interested in his hands. In the corner of his eye, he could see her smile disappear. "Oh you _did _try, didn't you?" she exclaimed. Next she punched him in the shoulder.

"Oh," he said, glaring daggers at her.

"You're such a moron! You can't trust the Alliance, Jayne! They won't pay ya unless they really have to. Hell, they'd probably arrest you alongside them."

Again he said nothing. And again she read him like an open book. "Gorram it, that's what they did, didn't they?"

"I got away, okay," he muttered.

"Moron," she repeated, and then stepped closer and lowered her voice. "And there's still the other thing, and this is the most important. You don't _help _the Alliance, Jayne! You don't aid them or assist them in any way. If they want this girl back, then you take her and you run in the opposite direction."

"It's easy for you to say," he hissed back. "You don't have to live on a ship with these people, lookin' over your shoulder all the time."

"Oh trust me," she said, and her voice was suddenly very cold, "I'd do anything to have your life."

He frowned. "What's wrong with yours?"

"Well, you should know. You never looked back on it."

"I couldn't stay. You know that. Weren't no place for me in this town."

"And you just assume there is one for me."

He narrowed his eyes. "If it's so gorram bad, why do you stay?"

"'Cause someone _has _to, Jayne!" she spat, louder now. "Jude got married, and Mattie…" She didn't finish. She didn't have to. Jayne had seen his brother for himself now.

Jo held his eyes for a moment, and when she spoke she no longer sounded angry, only sad. "You are the oldest, it was supposed to be _your _job. Guess I wasn't fast enough." She looked down at her feet, then took a deep breath and glanced back up at him. "Anyways, thanks," she said and gestured with the rifle, "for this."

She turned and walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

Her mister had many talents, and getting people to talk was one of them. Wash had this aura of naivety about him that evoked trust, simply because strangers tended to underestimate him; he was jovial and extrovert and made friends easy. But he wasn't exactly the most discreet and subtle person in the 'verse, nor was he known for keeping his cool when he was out of his element. And so they decided, or rather _Zoë_ decided, that the best course of action would be that she talked to the factory's management while he mingled with the workers.

Northern Star Wood Processing, Incorporated was in fact the only workplace in town. The Cobbs had not been exaggerating. As long as you didn't count the supply stores and other small family businesses, it seemed like everybody was in some form or another connected to it, and the place was seething with life. Hover trucks came and went, arriving with timber from the forests further inland and leaving again with finished products that were to be shipped out with the railway to 'all over Paquin', as Zoë soon learned.

The manager, a plump and quite informal man in his forties, seemed very proud of the business and gave Zoë the grand tour without her having to ask for it, and it was grand in the strictest sense; the place was _huge_. "We have close to two thousand employees," he told her. "They work in a three shift system, so the engines are always turnin', seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day."

Zoë was observant and attentive as always. She looked at the heavy machinery, the people, the comings and goings, and was – perhaps a little unconsciously – constantly searching for any sign of trouble. But the manager no doubt contributed this behavior to true and genuine interest, and it only made him happier and chattier.

"You mentioned you were looking for work?" he asked.

They were walking on a gallery above one of the many busy rooms, and she tore her eyes away from the buzzing crowd beneath to turn and look at him. "Yes, I'm the first mate of _Serenity, _the ship that landed here yesterday. You may have noticed it."

"I did," he said, and then added, chuckling a little,"Who didn't?"

"We do cargo runs mostly. Thought we'd offer our services."

"Well, we don't export off-world," he said. "So I'd doubt we'd have any jobs for you, I'm afraid. You should try the coastal towns, or better yet, the cities in the South."

"I understand. Thanks for the tip, and your time." She flashed him a smile she hoped didn't seem too fake. It was time to bring up the real issue. "We only stopped here because one of our crewmen wanted to see his family."

As anticipated, this really got his attention. "Yes," he said, "I saw you had Jayne Cobb with you."

"You know 'im?"

"Not personally, no."

"His father used to work here, right? Matthew?"

He flinched a little. Not much, but few things ever slipped by Zoë's trained eye. "That's correct," he muttered.

"Terrible accident, that," she said.

He looked away. "Yes, terrible, terrible."

"What happened really?"

"Oh you know." He was hesitating. "In places like this accidents are bound to happen. A lot fewer now than before however," he quickly added. "The safety of our workers is _very_ important to us. In fact, we revised the safety regulations last year, a whole new system installed. It's very fascinating…"

He was changing the topic. And this wasn't just a factory manager who hated being confronted by the less pleasant things associated with his company, she saw that clear as day. This man was nervous now; it was evident enough, even with him jabbing on about the new safety system.

Interesting.

She decided to give it another shot. "I heard he was crushed to death while doing maintenance work on one of the machines. And just out of curiosity, what are the safety rules for that kinda work?"

He still seemed rather uncomfortable; his eyes were flickering as if he was constantly on the lookout for potential danger. But he did answer her question. "There's a safety switch that prevents the machine from starting accidently. He forgot to pull it."

"He forgot?"

"Yes. Man worked here forty years and the one time he forgot…" The manager shook his head, a somewhat exaggerated mask of regret on his face. "Tragic."

"Yes," she nodded. "Very. And so the machine just started? By itself?"

"Listen, Mrs… Washburne, was it?... the incident was thoroughly investigated, and the conclusion was it was an accident. I think it's best left like that." He demonstratively glanced at his watch. "Oh, look at the time, best get back to business, right?" He laughed nervously. "I'm sorry we have no work to offer you."

"No worries," she replied, knowing that she wouldn't be able to squeeze more information from him. "Thanks again for your time. I'll see myself out."

She did, and not too long after Wash joined her there. He surprised her by coming from town, and not from the factory. She decided to let that particular question wait, though. "Any luck?"

"People here are very friendly," he stated. "Very helpful. Until…"

"You start askin' too many questions," she finished for him. "Yeah, I noticed that too."

"He was well liked."

"Hm?"

"Matthew Cobb. It seems he was very popular, they speak very highly of him. Hard worker, they say, and good at his job. Fair, strong…. He was a shift supervisor and some sorta unofficial spokesman for the workers here."

She nodded, not sure whether she was surprised to hear this or not, and then she had to remind herself that Jayne and his father weren't the same person. "They tell you about his so-called accident?" she asked.

"That they did. I got all the gory details about how they still found parts of him a week later." He shuddered. "I don't need those kinda details."

"Any of 'em witness the incident?"

"No. No one did. That's what they tell me. They still insist it was an accident, though." He grimaced. "Which don't make sense."

"Why?"

He glanced at her. "You hear about the safety switch? The one he supposedly forgot to pull?"

"Yeah, I also got a speech about the updated safety system."

"Precisely!" He stabbed the air with his index finger. "I heard about that new safety system too, and apparently one of the upgrades was a mechanism that prevents the machines' panels to come off unless the safety is turned _on. _Meaning, Matthew Cobb could _not_ have forgotten to pull the switch, because if he had, he hadn't been able to enter the machine in the first place."

She stared at him, disbelieving. "People are aware of this? How do they explain it?"

Wash shrugged. "Something about a glitch. The system was quite new at the time, it was installed less than a month before." He paused, and then added, "But of course they're all lying."

"This is all a big cover-up," Zoë fleshed out. "And for some reason they're all participatin'." She shook her head.

"Yeah, that confused me a little," Wash said, "seeing as Matthew was so popular and all. So I went to the town hall to do a little research on the company. It's a joint-stock company, right. Guess who holds fifty-two percent of the shares?"

She sighed as all the pieces fell into place. "Carl MacHaig."

"Bingo."

"Explains the power he's got over these people. You own the only workplace…"

"You own the town," he finished for her.

"Sounds like a man you don't cross."

"Unless you're a Cobb," Wash added and then shrugged. "Well, I guess it's in their blood."

Silence fell between them for a moment as Zoë analyzed the things she'd just learned in her mind. "This was no accident," she concluded. "This was murder. Somebody else switched the safety off."

He nodded his agreement. "And my money's on MacHaig."

She sighed again. "We won't be able to prove it, though. Not unless people decide to talk, and I don't see that comin'. They're scared senseless."

She suddenly became aware of two figures emerging from the factory door, and she recognized one as the manager. He was talking to an uniformed guard, pointing at her.

Wash had seen them too. "Looks like we've overstayed our welcome, lambytoes."

"Yeah," she somberly agreed. "Let's head back to the homestead."

* * *

><p>Mal was almost finished putting up a fence around Radiant's potato patch when she came out to him, bringing him lunch on a tray. "You've worked for it," she insisted when he told her there was no need for her to make a fuss about him being there.<p>

"The least I could do," he responded. "Given the hospitality you've shown my crew and myself. And truth be told, I've kinda enjoyed it."

"And it seems you know what you're doing," she said after inspecting the fence a little.

"I grew up on a ranch."

"I figured as much, you seem like a man of the earth," she smiled and then glanced towards _Serenity _where she was parked out on the field_. _"And still you ended up in the sky somehow."

"Well," he said, checking the post he'd just hammered into the ground. "There was that little thing called the War for Independence."

"Yes," she realized, "you're a veteran. Jayne told me. I reckon it'd be hard to go back home after something like that."

"More like impossible," he said, and then added, without looking at her, "I'm from Shadow."

He heard her gasp. "I'm so sorry… I shouldn't… I…"

"You didn't know," he said and looked up to meet her eyes again. "No need for apologizin'."

Her blue eyes were filled with sympathy. "All of 'em?" she asked, carefully, as if she wasn't really sure if she wanted the answer.

"All of 'em," he confirmed.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated.

He took the sandwich she was offering him and simply thanked her with a nod.

"The war never affected us much out here," she said. "But that don't mean we're fans of the Alliance. And what they did to Shadow… That was simply unforgiving."

He said nothing, but silently agreed.

"The pain of loss is one that never goes away, I know," she continued. "I've born six children into this 'verse, but the Lord took back two of 'em while they was still babes. And soon he'll take Mattie as well."

Mal frowned. "You certain of that?" he said. "If the doctor can find out what ails 'im…"

"I had a brother sufferin' from the same thing, whatever it's called," she explained. "He died even younger than Mattie is. They wither away slowly, towards the end the deterioration picks up speed, they can't get air and they die gasping." Her voice cracked and she looked away.

"Simon's very good at what he does," Mal said. "Please give him a chance."

She pulled herself together enough to send him a little smile. "I will. And I _am _very grateful for everything you've done. All of you."

He nodded and took another bite of the sandwich. "Jayne's your first born?" he asked, simply to lead the conversation in another direction.

Her smile grew and seemed a little less forced. "Yes."

"You can't have been old when you had 'im."

She chuckled. "I was sixteen. And then I had Jo the year after. Birds of a feather, them two. Where one was, the other had to be. They had a certain rep for bein' troublemakers around here."

"I can imagine," Mal smiled.

"He never meant no harm, you know," she said, again letting her eyes drift across the meadow. "Jayne. He just had that wildness in him. Couldn't sit still, hated being forced to do anything." Mal nodded, and she threw him a sideways glance. "What's his job? On your ship, I mean."

Mal was suddenly very interested in the fence post again. "Uh, he… he hauls crates and such. We do supply runs and there's cargo to be loaded and unloaded."

Another smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I appreciate the lie," she said.

He sighed, but then he had to give in to a smile as well. "Okay, maybe not all the jobs we pull are legal in the strictest sense." He looked at her. "And he _does _haul crates, so it's not all a lie."

"He ran off at fifteen, jumped a train. I later received word he'd joined the crew of some ship and gone off-word. And secretly I knew he was right; my Jayne's not cut out for this kinda life, he's meant to roam." She paused a little, before continuing, "His father, on the other hand, never understood. Whenever he came to see us they'd end up fightin'. And in the end he stopped comin'." Her smile faltered a little, but only for a second. "He kept writing me though. Tall tales and lies, but I could always read some truth between the lines. So I know he's been up to no good. Just like I know you're far from the worst captain he's served under."

"I suppose that's so," Mal said. "Though comin' out on top of that list ain't that a big achievement, I'm guessin'."

She gave another chuckle. "His letters changed, you know. After he met you. The parts I read between the lines."

He waited, but she didn't elaborate on those changes. Instead a shadow of worry fell across her face. "I suppose he ain't the easiest man to have under your command."

"We have an understanding, he and I," he replied. She nodded and turned to leave, but stopped when he said her name. "Radiant… That sorta existence you're handed on those ships Jayne's served on can make a monster out of a man. But if he's had a decent upbringing, if he comes from a home that's shown him love, then there's a part of 'im that always stays right. Crude as it may be, Jayne's got a sense of honor and decency. That's you. That's your doing."

For a few long beats she only stared at him. "He always needed that firm hand to guide him," she eventually said. "That's _you_."

And then they both smiled.

* * *

><p>"Radiant…"<p>

Simon looked up from his work when River suddenly spoke. He'd returned Mattie to the house (he'd had Jo drive him this time), and had since been busy analyzing the test results. River had been in the infirmary with him for the last hour or so, and she'd stayed completely quiet until now.

"Filled with light, emitting heat, glowing…"

"Yes, I suppose it's a fitting name," Simon smiled. "She's a good woman." He grimaced a little. "And I who always thought Jayne was raised by wolves."

"Jayne's not a wolf," his sister said. "He's an eagle."

"Right," Simon muttered and bent down over his microscope again.

"Cobb," River continued. "Cob… clay, sand, straw, water, and earth… to build houses from… Cob of corn… Corn on the cob… Popcorn… I want popcorn."

"I don't think we have any," Simon said without looking up.

His sister didn't reply.


	7. Chapter 7

The captain was not at all surprised by her findings, and Zoë hadn't expected him to be. "Corruption runs deep in this town," he stated after she'd reported back to him in _Serenity_'s cargo bay that afternoon.

"That it does," she agreed. "There's a killer on the loose here, and he's protected by the locals. Not 'cause they like 'im, but 'cause they're scared of 'im."

"I _hate _that!" he muttered. "I _hate _how the rich and powerful always get away."

Zoë studied him closely. She could see that even though there was a look of resignation on his face, he was still hard at work trying to come up with a solution. Planning, plotting, scheming…

She had to stop him.

"Sir," she said. "You promised Jayne you'd stay out of it. Perhaps we should honor that promise?"

He looked at her, his eyebrows contracted in a frown. "You think so?"

"What else _can_ we do? We try and do anything we'll only bring a whole lotta trouble down on us and the Cobbs. You don't mess with this guy."

"Haven't even met 'im," Mal mumbled. "Haven't seen 'im, sized 'im up. But I guess I don't have to. You're right, we can't do nothin'." He sighed heavily, showing how much it bothered him to come to this conclusion. "We'll stick around for a few more days," he decided. "Try and keep Jayne outta trouble."

She nodded. "You reckon he'll do somethin' stupid?"

"It's Jayne," he said, and it answered her question perfectly. He gave her a stern look. "Don't tell 'im," he warned her. "Don't tell 'im this man killed his father."

"I won't," she promised. "But I think he knows."

Mal sighed again. "Most like. All the better reason to keep an extra eye on 'im."

Zoë felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. "Why this sudden need to protect our resident man-ape? Is it the mother?" The look he gave her only widened the smile. "No worries, sir, I'm glad you like it here. You needed the break. We all did."

Without further conversation they turned and walked down the ramp out into the sunlight again. While the captain headed back towards the potato patch, calling for Wash to join him as he did so, Zoë stopped for a moment outside the ship to enjoy the sight of the Cobb home. It looked quite peaceful and idyllic at the moment. She spotted Kaylee and Obadiah hunched over some old pieces of machinery in the driveway, and she could just make out River's tiny frame moving about in the ditches by the road, picking berries it would seem. Zoë moved a little closer and saw how the girl ran to join Mattie on the bench by the house, to share the berries with him. He said something to her that made her smile.

Zoë looked on in amazement. This was new.

River hardly ever interacted with the people they met in their travels and if she did, it was just to deliver one of her creepy and/or incomprehensible comments, and yet now, at least from this distance, she looked like any other teenage girl entertaining her summer fling.

This place had certainly done wonders for them all.

Someone inside the house was playing the banjo; Zoë could hear the sound coming out of an open window on the first floor, and she spent another moment listening to the music.

And she really, really wished she could have taken that MacHaig guy.

* * *

><p>Jo met up with her at sundown. She'd instructed her to dress warm because the nights got chilly and said that while she could use her shotgun if she wanted to, it would probably be better to bring a rifle, and so Zoë had done precisely that. Wash had come to see her off and now as Jo began loading her equipment unto the pick-up truck, Zoë saw that shadow of worry she'd come to know so well fall across his face. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and he turned to meet her eyes.<p>

"_Zhuyi_," he admonished.

"I always do, sweet cakes," she replied and kissed him goodbye. She climbed into the car and then gave him one final wave as Jo turned the ignition and they drove away.

Settling into the passenger seat, Zoë spotted the dead rodents by her feet. "Rabbits?" she asked.

"For bait," Jo explained. She smiled a little. "That was the first thing Pop had us do, me and Jayne, back when he taught us how to hunt; shootin' rabbits for bait."

"Your father taught you this?"

"Yup. How to shoot, how to track, everything I know."

"Were you close?"

"Pop and I? I guess. I 'preciated the fact that he never treated me no different than my brother. He never saw me as just a girl. Suited me fine. I never wanted to be no princess."

Zoë smiled. "Kinda got that impression from you." She glanced out the window. It was getting darker; she could barely make out the landscape now. "So how come you don't work at the factory with everybody else?"

"I _did _work there," Jo replied. "Didn't last long, though. I was sort of asked to leave."

"Yeah?"

"I ended up in a fight. One of the foremen grabbed my ass, so I gave 'im my fist instead. Next thing I know there's a big brawl and I'm labeled 'instigator of trouble'." She shook her head. "Pop was furious with me, but I walked outta that place with my head held high and I never looked back."

"And then you took up huntin'?"

"Well, the only other career choice for women around here is becoming wives and mothers. I figured huntin' dogs would be safer."

Zoë chuckled. "Bein' a wife ain't that bad," she said. "You just gotta find the right guy."

"Yeah, you and Wash," Jo smiled. "Now, there's an oddity, if you don't mind my sayin'."

"Well, you ain't the first one to have said it," Zoë replied.

Jo glanced at her. "But, hey, you love 'im, and that's all that matter, right? You don't give a damn 'bout what other people think. I like that."

"Thanks."

"But I'm tellin' ya, there ain't no right guy for me out there," Jo stated, and just as Zoë opened her mouth to protest, she clarified, "Not 'cause he ain't right, but 'cause he's a guy."

And Zoë understood and smiled. "I see."

After a few more miles, Jo pulled over and parked the vehicle by the forest edge. "We have to walk the rest of the way," she said and handed Zoë a pair of goggles. "For night vision."

Zoë put the goggles on and saw the world in hues of grey and green, but at least now she was able to see it. She strapped on her guns and followed Jo into the woods and down a narrow path between the trees.

The trek wasn't long; they soon reached a clearing overlooked by a cliff and Jo came to a halt, declaring this was usually a good spot. She put the rabbits down in the tall grass, and then gestured for Zoë to follow her to a thicket below the cliff where they crouched down behind the bushes.

"So, what's Jayne like?" she asked while they got settled. "_Now_, I mean. Seeing as I haven't seen him in ten years, it would be interesting to know if he's still the same."

"Well," Zoë replied, "You want the honest answer?"

"Hell yeah."

"He's all do-first-ask-later, he's rude, he complains, he cheats, he can't take a hint unless you scream it into his face, and by then I guess you can no longer call it a hint. But he can always be counted on in a fight; he's a good shot and a terrific tracker. Your father taught him well." Jo smiled, and Zoë locked eyes with her and made sure her face mirrored her earnestness. "I know he's got my back, and even though I might not trust 'im with my money, I do trust 'im with my life."

"Hm," Jo pensively said, "guess he hasn't changed that much, then." She pulled her coat tighter and swept her eyes once more across the clearing in front of them. "Okay, now we wait."

* * *

><p>Kaylee found Simon on the porch. She had seen him leave the living room where they were all spending the evening with the Cobbs, and seeing this as a possibility to have some alone time with him, she had followed him.<p>

It was a clear night. Shinbone, the closest of Paquin's moons, was full and the garden was bathed in the white lunar light, and Kaylee turned to Simon with a wide smile on her face. "Ain't it beautiful?" she asked.

"What?"

"The full moon, of course. Look, on a clear night like this, you can actually make out the cities up there."

He did throw a glance upwards, but he didn't look very interested. She sighed inwardly, but she was determined to get him relaxed tonight, so she grabbed his arm and pulled him along as she headed for the big oak tree in the middle of the garden. "Come."

He came and she hung on his arm and chatted happily as they walked. "Radiant says Jude and her family will come back tomorrow. Can't wait to talk to Fergus again. You know he fixed up that pick-up truck that Jo's drivin'? That thing's _ancient _and he made it work! I hope he can teach me a thing or two."

"Hm," Simon said.

They reached the tree and she pointed to the thing she'd wanted to show him. "Look."

There was a heart carved into the tree, with the letters M and R inside, and he studied it, though not with the enthusiasm she had hoped for.

"It stands for Matthew and Radiant," she said. "He carved it the same day they got the deed for the land. She told me. It's so romantic."

"Hm," he said again.

"Simon," she groaned. "You're doing it again. You're going all stiff on me."

He sighed. "I'm sorry. Just got a lot on my mind."

He sounded so tired that she instantly felt bad for being so impatient with him. "No, _I'm _sorry," she said. "Is it the thing with Mattie? You makin' any progress?"

"A little. I've managed to exclude a couple of possible diseases. I've got some theories."

"I sure hope you can help 'im," she said, and then smiled. "River seems to like him."

"Yes," he muttered and the frown on his face made _her_ frown as well.

"What?" she said. "What is it?"

"I… I just don't want her to get hurt."

"Simon!" she hissed. "You're not bein' fair! Mattie ain't Jayne."

"No!" he exclaimed. "No, that's not what I meant. I…"

"What?"

He shrugged. "No, never mind."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them and after enduring it for just a few moments, she hurriedly started talking again, just to get rid of it. "Looking forward to see the kids again to. They're so cute."

And now he really stiffened. His whole body tensed and his eyes widened.

"Simon!" she exclaimed again. "Will you relax? I'm just talkin' 'bout the kids, it ain't like I wanna have babies with you."

But he wasn't looking at her; his wide eyes were staring at something behind her and his face turned just as pale as the moonlight. "Kaylee?" he said, and it came out as little more than a squeak.

With a surge of fear in her stomach, she turned around to see for herself – and the first thing she saw was a pair of yellow eyes staring back at her.

Wild dog.

She had never seen a live one before and it was half hidden by the shadows, but there was no doubt in her mind that it was one. It was less than a hundred feet away from them, hunched down in the bushes at the edge of the forest, as if ready to leap on them. The aforementioned eyes reflected the light from the house and the moon and they never wavered. Kaylee felt the blood drain away from her face.

She heard Simon repeat her name, whispering, as if whispering would help now. "Should we run?"

She struggled to find her voice; her mouth was suddenly all dried up. "I… I don't know."

She sensed movement to her left and nearly panicked, but then she recognized Jayne in the dim light as he slowly stepped up next to her. He had drawn his pistol and his eyes were glued to the dog.

"Go back to the house," he instructed them in a low voice, not ever letting the animal out of his sight. "Nice and slow. If you run, it'll chase ya."

Kaylee swallowed hard, but then she did what she'd been told. She slowly turned back to Simon, accepted the hand he offered her, and walked back towards the house with him, constantly fighting the instinct that told her to break into a full sprint.

Then a loud snarl pierced the night, and they heard Jayne yell, "Gorram it!" followed by, "Run! Go! Go!"

And they ran.

The gun fired. Once… Twice…

"Jayne!" Kaylee screamed and wanted to turn and see if he was alright.

"Come on!" Simon shouted, pulling her along.

She thought maybe she heard the animal closing in behind her, approaching, but then they reached the house and threw themselves at the door, and they stumbled into the living room where the others waited, their eyes wide with worry. Mal was at his feet, so were Radiant and Obadiah.

"Jayne!" Kaylee gasped again, but just then the mercenary burst in through the door after them, slamming it shut.

Obadiah stepped forward. "You get it?" he asked.

"Nah," Jayne replied, his face split in a grimace of annoyance, "I missed."

"We should look for it tomorrow then. That's too close to the house."

Jayne nodded his agreement, still panting. He shifted his eyes to Simon, who was just standing there, staring at the door, frozen in shock. "You thank your sister and the creepy fact that she knows where you at all the time," he snarled and then spun around to face Kaylee. "And _you… _I'd expect this from him, him being a city slicker and all, but _you_ should know better. You don't go wandering around the woods in the dark!"

"Sorry," she panted. "And thanks."

Simon still hadn't moved. Jayne frowned when he saw it. "What's with you?"

"It was huge," Simon muttered.

Jayne huffed. "That one wasn't even full grown," he said, and walked away.

"Wait, wait," Wash said, as he rose from his seat in the sofa. "This is what my wife's out there hunting?"

* * *

><p>Zoë must have dozed off a little, because the next thing she remembered was Jo gently shaking her awake and gesturing for her to be quiet. Then she pointed, and Zoë peered over the bushes in the direction her index finger indicated and spotted the big animal moving about between the trees on the other side of the clearing.<p>

Jo leaned in close and whispered in her ear. "It's hesitatin'. Maybe it's caught our scent. Can't get a clear shot unless it comes out into the open."

Zoë could easily see why a clear shot was necessary here. If you ended up wounding this thing, you'd have four hundred pounds of fury on your hands. It was a big animal, like a bear, but the slim body, the long snout and the tail gave it that distinct canine look.

"They're smart," Jo whispered. "But easily provoked. Are you fast on the trigger?"

"When I have to," Zoë replied. "Why?"

"I'll help it along a little. Be ready."

Without further explanation, the woman got to her feet and stepped out from the bushes and into the clearing. Zoë was about to shout at her, asking her what the hell she was doing, but decided it would be best to just play along. She readied her weapon.

Jo slowly moved towards the spot where the bait was, eyeing the animal the entire time. "Come on, big boy," she told it. "You don't want 'em, I'll take 'em."

Zoë held her breath.

A twig snapped.

And then the wild dog attacked.

It bolted into the clearing, headed for Jo, snarling and barking, and Jo spun around and sprinted towards a pile of large rocks nearby. "Shoot, Zoë!" she hollered. "Shoot it!"

Zoë let her instincts guide her. She jumped to her feet, took aim and fired just as Jo reached the largest rock and threw herself behind it.

The bullet struck home. With a yelp the dog crashed to the ground, dead almost in an instant, and Jo popped her head back up from behind the rock again. "Yeah!" she yelled, throwing her arms up into the air. "Good eye! Good eye!"

Zoë breathed for the first time in what felt like minutes and lowered her gun. Gorramit, this woman was nuts!

Jo just grinned. "Great shot! I'd say you're definitely fast on the trigger."

"And I'd say you're definitely a Cobb," Zoë replied. And then she smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

Jayne was not particularly fond of kids. Kids were stressful to be around. You had to behave all the time, constantly mind your tongue and manners – and you couldn't punch them when they annoyed you. And the worst type of kids were the ones who stared or asked stupid questions – and Jayne found out soon enough that his nephew Finnegan did both.

He'd returned to the house that morning with his parents, and this time around he'd gotten over the initial fear pretty fast and started following Jayne around wherever he went. Not even throwing him angry glares did the trick; he backed off a little each time, but always came back.

His sister's kid.

It felt weird. When Jayne had landed here two days ago, the Jude he'd remembered had still been a skinny, little girl in ponytails sitting on the porch throwing her dolls a tea party. And here she was, a woman – grown and married. To Fergus, the freckled little kid who lived down the lane and always told on him and Jo when they'd been out doing their shenanigans.

A wave of realization and another indefinable emotion suddenly washed over him. Fergus wasn't that little freckled kid anymore, and Jude didn't have ponytails, and he didn't really know much about any of them. Jo had been right about that.

"Are you a pirate?" The boy suddenly spoke to him.

Jayne glared at him. "A pirate?" he spat. "No, I'm no pirate! Why'd you think that?"

"You look like one."

"Oh yeah? What does a pirate look like?"

"Like you."

Jayne's narrowed his eyes even more, hoping it would scare the boy away again.

It didn't.

"Then what are you?"

Ok, different tactic. He looked away, pretending to be busy. "I'm nuthin'," he muttered.

"You can't be nothing. Nobody can't be nothing."

Jayne huffed and glanced at him. "I ain't gonna tell you, kid."

"Why not?"

"'Cause if I do it'll give you nightmares, that's why."

The boy's eyes still didn't waver. "D'you kill people?"

Jayne suppressed another sigh. "When I have to."

"You gonna kill the man who killed grandpa?"

'_Course I'm gonna, _Jayne thought to himself. But he was smart enough to know that a five-year-old kid wasn't supposed to know stuff like this, so all he said out loud was, "Now what gave you _that_ idea? That someone killed your grandpa?"

"Auntie Jo said so."

_Well, that would explain it._ "I bet _auntie_ Jo says a lot of things you aren't supposed to hear."

"She says you don' care."

"Well, that's not true!" The words came out louder and harsher than intended, and this time Finnegan _did_ take a step back. "Sorry," Jayne muttered, waving him away, "Go play."

"Play what?"

Gorram it, this kid was worse than River! "I dunno! Whatever you like to play with."

"Will you play with me?"

"No."

"But I wanna play with you."

"Well, that's too bad, 'cause I don't wanna play with _you. _Now, get!"

Finnegan gave him a glare – yes, he actually _glared_ at him – before he turned on his heel and took off.

Wash came by just then. "Wow," he sarcastically remarked, "You're a natural around kids."

"Shut it!" Jayne snarled and walked away.

* * *

><p>Mal came up to Wash just as Jayne left. "Where's your wife?" he asked. "Sleeping in?"<p>

"Yup," Wash replied. "Apparently it's local custom to seal a hunting trip by drinking considerably amounts of potato wine."

Mal chuckled. He hadn't seen Zoë considerably drunk in years. Too bad he'd missed it.

It had taken him a while this morning to notice her absence. He had been listening in on the conversation between Kaylee, Obadiah and Fergus as they tinkered away on Jo's pick-up truck. Obadiah had shown them the silver coat of arms he wore on his tartan plaid and told them that the head of the Cobb clan had carried it for fourteen generations. Mal recognized a good cock-and-bull story when he heard one, but he'd still found it rather entertaining.

It wasn't until he'd swept his gaze across the yard and caught sight of Jo skinning the dog, that he realized he hadn't seen Zoë all morning and stepped up to Wash to ask him about it. Otherwise they were all present: Jude was helping her mother with the laundry, Mattie was on the bench by the house with little Abby on his knee, and River was standing next to him, looking at the baby with great fascination. The boy, Finnegan, was running around, apparently trying to make as much noise as possible, and by now Jayne had retreated to the chopping block by the barn.

Good move. Chopping wood was good for the soul. And Jayne looked like he needed it.

Simon was missing too, Mal realized, though that wasn't so surprising. The doctor had emerged himself in work at the earliest convenience, just like he always did whenever he felt awkward and out of place. Which was more or less _all_ the time. He was probably in the infirmary conducting his research and Mal was about to ask Wash whether he knew something about that too, when he spotted Zoë heading their way.

"Speak of the devil," he muttered.

"You calling my wife a devil?" Wash said.

"Well, she was a dust devil, wasn't she?" Mal lifted an arm and waved at his first mate as she approached them. "Zoë!"

Zoë stopped and threw both her hands up. "Please, don't," she said, squeezing her eyes shut. "Don't… shout."

Mal grinned, but before he could say anything else, Jo called out and made everybody shift their attention to her. She'd dropped what she'd been doing and picked up her rifle and started loading it instead. "We've got company," she declared.

Mal saw it too. A hovercraft was heading their way, followed by two more. He hurried over to Radiant, who looked at the approaching vehicles with worry in her eyes. "Is that…?" he began.

"That's MacHaig," she confirmed and then turned towards her youngest daughter. "Jude, take the kids, get inside."

Jude nodded and roped in her son, then picked up the baby from Mattie and disappeared inside the house with them.

Mal's eyes flashed to Jayne. His mercenary had already drawn his gun and started walking towards the visitors. Mal ran to intervene. "Jayne!" he hissed as he stepped up to him, placing a hand on the gun, trying to shove it back inside its holster.

"Outta my way!" Jayne snarled and didn't even offer him a glance. He only had eyes for MacHaig.

"Jayne, don't be stupid, listen to me!"

"No, I told you to stay out of this!"

"Jayne!" Mal hissed again, still keeping his voice low. "You start shootin', they'll shoot back. You have a house full of innocents here. Your sister's kids, gorramit!" Jayne stopped, indicating he'd give his captain one last chance to make his case. Mal took it. "I won't stand in your way when the time comes, I promise you that, but this is not it. _Think! _I know you're capable of it."

Jayne gritted his teeth, threw one short look at his mother and then reluctantly holstered his gun. Jo still had her rifle, but wasn't aiming it at anyone for the time being. Kaylee had joined Mattie and River by the bench. Fergus had taken up a protective stance in front of the door, and Obadiah had straightened his back to keep a vigilant eye on the situation, standing his ground, but letting Jo and Jayne make up the front line.

The hovercrafts swooshed into the yard and came to a halt in front of them. The driver of the first one pulled off his goggles and flashed a wolfish grin at the Cobb siblings. "Jayne Cobb!" he exclaimed. "Look at you, all grown up."

"Drop dead," Jayne hissed back.

"Just as hospitable as your sister, I hear. It don't matter none, my business is with your mother."

The man, who Mal came to understand was MacHaig, was a man in his sixties with white short-cropped hair and piercing blue eyes. He was well groomed and wore expensive-looking clothes, but still seemed to be a little rough around the edges like land barons of his caliber often were. He showed no fear or reservation whatsoever, just climbed out of the vehicle and nodded for the man in the passenger seat – a puny little fellow with thin hair and glasses – to follow his lead.

"Radiant!" he called. "You ready to pay your debts?"

Radiant stiffened; Mal saw it as he slowly made his way towards her, and he turned to look innocently at MacHaig. "Why, does she owe you money?"

Both MacHaig and Jayne turned to glare angrily at him.

Only MacHaig spoke, though. "You must be Malcolm Reynolds," he dryly remarked.

Mal had reached Radiant's side and casually leaned back on his heels. "And you're well informed."

MacHaig smiled, but his eyes stayed just as angry as before. "Your people have been around town askin' questions," he said. "I don't much appreciate it."

"Just makin' inquiries 'bout a job."

MacHaig didn't at all look like he believed him and the not-so-convincing smile disappeared. "If you know what's good for you, mister, you'll stay out of my business."

"Don't worry 'bout us," Mal reassured him. "We're just passin' through. We'll be gone soon."

"That you will. And so will the Cobbs. You hear that, Radiant? Unless you can provide the banker here with the money you owe him, he'll seize your land. Today."

"What?" Jo yelled, and Radiant gasped and stared disbelievingly at the little man with the glasses.

"Douglas?" she said. "What's this?"

The banker couldn't even look at her; he just stared at his feet and his voice was nearly inaudible as he spoke. "I'm sorry, Radiant. But I need the money. I need the money now." He sounded like a robot.

Jo took a threatening step in his direction. "You spineless piece of _goushi!_" she spat at him. "And you," she addressed the men on the other hovercrafts, probably brought there for backup, "my father counted some of you among his friends!" Her voice was heavy with anger, desperation and a sadness she wasn't fully able to disguise.

Mal stepped a little closer to Radiant, slid the thick pad of bills out of his pocket and discreetly poked her hand with it. "Take it," he whispered without looking at her.

She glanced at him and then downwards at his hand and the money. "I ain't takin' charity," she hissed back.

"Ain't charity," he said. "It's front money. I'll have Jayne work for it, don't you worry none. Just take it." She still hesitated, so he added, "It'll buy us some time."

"What's it gonna be, Radiant?" MacHaig shouted. "Pay up, or _I _will. And your property will be lawfully mine." Grinning he turned towards the banker and shrugged, "Five hundred credits, was it?"

Radiant finally snatched the pad of bills from Mal's hand. "I have the money!" she declared and lifted her hand to show them.

Everybody's mouths dropped open in surprise – MacHaig's, Jayne's, Jo's, the banker's – but Radiant just ignored them all as she stepped up the latter and handed him the pad, and as the little man counted up the five hundred credits, Mal saw how a smile of relief spread across his face.

MacHaig, however, was _not _smiling. "Where'd you get that?" he demanded to know, and then spun around to pierce Mal with his glare and answered his own question. "_You _gave it to her!"

"She's paid her debts," Mal calmly replied as the banker gave Radiant the receipt. "How she got the money is not important."

MacHaig directed his index finger at him. "You'll regret this!"

"Leave!" Radiant told him and waved the receipt in his direction. "This is my property one hundred percent now. Get off it! All of you!"

For a long moment nobody moved. Jo slowly raised her gun a little, Jayne rested his hand on his. Then MacHaig seemed to accept the fact that he'd lost this round, and with a final venomous glare in Mal's direction he mounted his hovercraft and darted off, leaving the poor banker in the dust. The other men took pity on him and pulled him onboard one of the other vehicles before they followed their boss.

Jo uncocked her rifle and then threw an arm around her mother, steering her towards the house. "Thanks," she muttered to Mal as they walked by.

Jayne on the other hand was glaring daggers at him. "What the hell happened to 'not get involved'?"

"Where did that money come from?" Wash asked. "Was it the money for the mule?"

"But that's okay," Kaylee hurriedly added. "They needed it more than us, right?"

"Well, yeah, sure," Wash mumbled, but couldn't hide the disappointment on his face.

"You sure this was wise?" Zoë said.

"You shoulda let me kill him!" Jayne exclaimed.

"_Bizui!_" Mal said, and again that word worked its magic. His crew fell silent. He turned to Wash. "We'll still get a mule. Jayne'll pay us back, every last bit."

"I will?" Jayne said, but Mal only had to throw him one warning look and then he added, muttering, "Yes, 'course I will." A frown fell upon his face as he got lost in his thoughts.

"You know this don't fix it, right?" Zoë said. "He'll be back."

"Most like," Mal agreed. "But he's run out of legal ways to take the land. He's cornered."

Zoë sighed. "Why do I have a feeling this will get ugly?"

Jayne was done doing the math. "It'll take me years," he stated.

Mal looked around. Obadiah and Fergus had followed the women inside the house, and River and Mattie was out of earshot. "Not necessarily," he said. "I have an idea."

Zoë cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Mal nodded. "Wash made some pretty interesting observations for me in town yesterday."

"That I did," Wash nodded, ignoring the scrutinizing look from his wife.

Mal started walking towards _Serenity, _and the others followed. "The way I see it," he told them, "we have two things working for us. One, the man's arrogant to a fault. That means he has his guards down. Two, people clearly don't like him. If we can make 'em believe we can actually take this guy, I betcha they'll jump at the chance to swap sides."

"And then you'll let me kill him?" Jayne asked.

"Better. I'll let you humiliate him."

Jayne snorted. "How's that _better?_"

"You actually have a plan, sir?" Zoë asked.

"Yes." After a moment's consideration, he added, "Well, obviously there's still a few minor details we need to work out."

"Obviously," Zoë said.

They walked up the ramp and as they stepped inside the cargo bay, Mal nearly bumped into Simon who was on his way out. "Doctor," he smilingly greeted him. "Just the man I needed to see. Got a job for you."

Simon's face was as always difficult to read, but if Mal would have to guess, he'd guess that the young man looked even more somber than usual. The smile fell of his face. "What?" he asked. "What is it?"

Simon glanced at the pad he held in his hand and then looked up to meet his eyes. "I know what's wrong with Mattie Cobb."


	9. Chapter 9

"It's called Anson's Syndrome."

Simon was standing in the middle of the living room, not really sure who in his captivated audience he should be looking at. The Cobbs and the Campbells, as well as the captain, were all present, and the scrutinizing eyes directed at him and the deafening silence reminded him of that very first evening he'd spent on _Serenity, _when he'd delivered that speech to the crew, pleading his case.

He'd hated it then, he hated it now.

The most prudent thing would be to look at Mattie, he concluded; after all this concerned him more than it did the others. But it wasn't easy, and he had to force himself to do it.

"It's a genetic disease," he explained, "that runs in certain bloodlines." He turned to address Radiant, "You mentioned to the captain you had a brother suffering from the same thing?"

She nodded affirmatively, but otherwise her face remained expressionless.

"It attacks the lungs, slowly destroying their ability to take up oxygen. It's degenerative; you're obviously born with it and it'll worsen over the years." He paused and for a beat everybody was silently waiting for him to continue.

In the end it was Mal who asked the dreaded question. "Is it treatable?"

"No." Simon kept the answer deliberately short. There was no reason to drag this out more than necessary. "There are ways to ease the symptoms, of course, but no, there's no real cure." He forced himself to look at Mattie again. "Few live past the age of twenty."

"And I'm twenty-four," Mattie calmly remarked. "Guess I should consider myself lucky." There was surprisingly little bitterness in his voice, and when he felt his mother tense up next to him, he turned towards her and smiled bravely.

"I'm sorry," Simon said.

"It's not your fault, darling," Radiant told him. "You're only confirmin' what I already knew." She mimicked her son's brave smile.

Mattie glanced back at him. "So… how long?" he asked.

"You're in the final stages," Simon replied, hesitating a little. These things were always hard to calculate. "Maybe six months. At the most."

How he hated this! Not being able to save everyone was an inevitable part of being a doctor, but that didn't mean it ever got easy. And telling a man not older than himself that he was going to die still… sucked. To put it mildly.

Mattie nodded, still stoic and calm, and draped an arm across his mother's slumping shoulders. Over by the window Jude started crying quietly, Jo was staring intently at her feet and Jayne shifted uncomfortably in his seat, never taking his eyes off Simon.

The only person who seemed to have a hard time accepting the harsh reality, was actually the captain. "Is there nothing you can do?" he asked.

"No," Simon patiently repeated. "And I assure you it's not because of lack of will or resources."

"And you're absolutely sure your diagnosis is correct?"

"Yes."

"Damn," Mal muttered.

Radiant had gone pale and she seemed completely unaware of how Mattie was stroking her cheek to comfort her. Eventually she looked up to meet Simon's eyes. "Genetic?" she said. "He got it from me?"

"It would appear you're the carrier of the gene that causes the disease, yes," Simon confirmed. "There's a fifty percent chance you'll pass it on to your children, and of those about a third will develop the disease. It's probably what killed your little ones," he added, referring to the two infants she'd lost – and instantly regretted it. She hadn't needed to know that.

"What about my grandkids?" she asked, and the question caused a reaction in Jude who looked up and stared at him as well, the sorrow on her face momentarily replaced by fear and worry.

"If Jude's a carrier of the gene, she could've passed it on to them," Simon truthfully replied. "But if they had the syndrome they should've shown symptoms by now, at least the boy. They seem healthy to me."

"Could you find out for sure?" Jude asked, and the tone of her voice told Simon how desperately she needed to know.

"I can test you," he offered. "See if you have the gene. If you don't, they don't. It doesn't skip generations."

"Then do it."

"Okay, the procedure's quite simple. I only need a sample of your blood."

Jo jumped to her feet. "And me," she said. "Test me as well."

Everybody instinctively shifted their attention to Jayne, and when he became aware of it, he cleared his throat. "Fine, me too," he mumbled.

"Alright," the doctor nodded. "You can come by the infirmary later tonight, and I'll have an answer for you in a couple of days."

"Thank you," Jude said, and clung to the reassuring hand Fergus had placed on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Simon muttered again, before he silently slipped from the room, leaving the family to digest the bad news in privacy.

Mal came with him. "Damn," he repeated. "I'd really hoped it'd be somethin' you could fix, Doc."

"I thought it would be," Simon admitted. "I'm overly confident that way."

"Hey, don't kick yourself." The captain sounded genuinely sympathetic. "Now," he glanced back over his shoulder, "we'll let Jayne have a moment, but you and I should head back to the boat. We have a lot of planning to do, and not much time to do it in."

Simon put up a puzzled frown. "Planning? I'm part of your planning?"

"Yes, you are. Like I said, I have a job for you."

Simon sighed. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

* * *

><p>And so it happened that about twenty hours later Simon found himself walking down the main street of New Inverness with Kaylee by his side. She was holding his arm, smiling and skipping along, trying to give the impression that they were just out for a stroll, but Simon was pretty sure they were fooling nobody. "Try not to draw any attention," the captain had instructed them, but that was easier said than done; after all they were the only strangers in town.<p>

"Simon," Kaylee whispered, "you're supposed to look relaxed."

"I'm trying," he hissed back. "Maybe if we talked about something? Maybe that would take my mind of the fact that everybody's staring at us just when we're about to do something illegal?"

"Sssh," she shushed him, but never took the now clearly fake smile off her face. "Okay, then. Have you told River 'bout Mattie? 'Bout how he's going to die?"

"Maybe not about _that_," he muttered, but he still answered her question, "No."

"Why not?"

"She doesn't have to know. I'm not sure how much she comprehends anyway. She's like a child sometimes."

"Poor Radiant." The phony smile had vanished. "First her husband, now her child. She's such a nice woman. She don't deserve this."

"No, she doesn't." Simon knew he sounded bitter, and he'd made no attempt to hide it anyway. And maybe he should have talked to River? Before she got too attached to the young man. His sister had experienced too many losses in her short life already.

Simon was still lost in these thoughts (and they _had _taken his mind off the crime about to be done), when Kaylee stopped. "We're here."

They had come to a rest in front of a three-story building that, if it hadn't been the largest house there, would have looked quite simple. A plaque nailed to the wall told them that these were the headquarters of Northern Star Wood Processing, Inc., but they were really only interested in the vehicles parked on the curb outside. One in particular stood out; a flashy hovercraft that looked more expensive than all the others combined.

They stepped up to it. "Here goes," Kaylee said.

"Is this it?" Simon asked.

"Yup, just where Wash said it would be."

Simon bit his lip. "Let's just hope he's got the other details right as well."

He glanced around to check if the coast was clear. It wasn't. People were still passing by on the street and several of them threw them long looks, perhaps wondering why they were just standing there, apparently doing nothing, and so Simon put his arm around Kaylee and pulled her closer, to give off the impression that they were lovers stealing a private moment.

And suddenly her face was very close to his, and he felt her warm breath on his skin, and her lips looked welcoming and so very reachable…

Through the corner of his eye he saw that there was finally a gap in the traffic and the sidewalk empty, and he gently pushed her away. "Come on, do your thing. And please hurry."

She immediately dropped to the ground and swiftly rolled in underneath the hovercraft. From his pockets he produced the tools he'd helped her carry and slid them to her. Then he casually leaned against a signpost close by, glanced at his watch and pretended to be waiting for someone, now and then coughing loudly to camouflage the tinkering sounds the mechanic was making.

It only took a few minutes, but it felt like a small eternity. "Kaylee," he urged at one point, glancing nervously at the main doors of the building, expecting the man to walk out at any moment.

"Nearly there," she whispered back.

An old woman passed him, staring at him, and Simon smiled and nodded to her, but she said nothing, just put up a suspicious face as she walked on by.

Finally Kaylee climbed out from under the car and stood up, smiling. "Done."

"Good, let's go."

They stepped out into the street again, but as she made to walk back the way they'd come, he gently nudged her along in the opposite direction.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I thought since we're already here… There's something I'd like to check out first."

She looked puzzled, perhaps surprised by what he knew was an uncharacteristically behavior, but she followed him nonetheless as he determinedly started walking towards the city hall.

* * *

><p>A few miles outside of town, on a deserted strip of land, Wash was waiting. He was hidden in a thicket at the top of a small hill, and when he heard the sound of a hovercraft approaching he peered out from the bushes to look at the road that ran past beneath. The vehicle's engine didn't sound right; it made a hissing, coughing noise and left a tail of black smoke behind. Wash smiled broadly to himself as it finally died away all together and the hovercraft came to a stop.<p>

Right on the spot.

Wash's grin grew. Kaylee was certainly worth her weight in gold.

MacHaig stepped out, cursing loudly – Wash could easily hear him from his hiding place – and opened the hood, and as he did so more black smoke came pouring out, engulfing him.

Wash bit his lip not to snicker out loud as he watched how two black-clad and masked figures slowly stepped out from behind a cluster of trees next to the road with raised guns. A third popped up too, but stayed back to keep an eye on the surroundings. None of them spoke, but when MacHaig spotted them, he was smart enough to lift his hands in a defensive manner.

"I've got no money here!" he shouted. "You're makin' a mistake."

It didn't look like any of his assailants were listening to him. One of them only waved him away from the vehicle and kept him at gunpoint while the other climbed into it and started rummaging around.

"And you can forget about the car!" MacHaig yelled. "It won't do you no good. It's got a state of the art security system. It needs my DNA to start."

Still he got no response, which seemed to make him even angrier.

"You have no idea how much trouble you're in! Don't you know who I am? I'll have you put away for life, all of you!"

The lookout, who until then had stayed on the sidelines, took a few threatening steps in his direction, but backed down again when the one pointing his gun at MacHaig gestured for him to do so with but a wave of his hand.

Wash's attention was on the third person, the one aboard the hovercraft, who by now had found the secret compartment underneath the passenger seats in the back, just where the factory workers had told Wash it'd be.

Every Thursday, they'd told him. Every Thursday MacHaig came this way, alone, unguarded, always the same route, always carrying the same thing, 'safely' hidden away in the 'secret' compartment everybody knew about but nobody dared to touch.

The person on the vehicle pulled out something that looked like a big toolbox, and judging by MacHaig's reaction they'd struck gold. "That's just some old tools!" he insisted, a little too frantically, as the lookout stepped up to the hovercraft to help haul the box away.

Then all three assailants, who still hadn't spoken a word or shown their faces, walked away with the loot, leaving a steaming MacHaig with his broken car.

Wash scrambled out of his hidey-hole and hurried to meet up with the others by the hidden pickup truck a little further down the road. They were already there when he arrived, and Zoë tore off her mask just as he came up to them. "He'll know it's us," she declared.

"No, he won't," Mal retorted as he peeled his own mask off. "He'll _suspect _it, but he won't know it. And he can't prove it."

"A man like that don't need no proof," Zoë pointed out. "He'll come."

"I certainly hope so. It's all part of the plan."

"How so?"

Mal didn't answer, because Jayne, who'd also shed the mask, just then managed to pry open the toolbox, and they all leaned in to look at the contents.

It was stuffed with money.

Just like the factory workers had said it'd be.

Every Thursday, they'd told him, MacHaig collected his earnings of the week from the company office, in cold hard cash, just the way he preferred it, and took it home to his estate in his hovercraft.

It was a robbery waiting to happen. This man was certainly too arrogant for his own good.

They all grinned broadly at the sight of the cash, except Zoë, who still didn't look fully convinced. The captain saw it. "Oh come on, Zo', this is a damn good take, you'll have to admit."

"Normally I'd say so," she agreed. "Normally I'd be thrilled. But normally we'd be headed out for the stars by now. This time we'll be leaving people behind. Innocent people who'll pay the price in our place."

Jayne, who'd until then had been completely bedazzled by the credit bills in the box (nothing distracted his already somewhat simple mind more than money) looked up and shifted his eyes from her to Mal and back again. "I won't let 'im near 'em," he growled.

"No worries," Mal said, he sounded dead serious and kept his eyes firmly on his first mate as he spoke, "I've got this under control."

He turned and mounted the truck. Jayne loaded the box unto it and followed him.

"Now, why don't I find that reassurin'?" Zoë muttered, but Wash was the only one who heard it.


	10. Chapter 10

He's showing her the stars.

It's not logical, as she's already seen them. They've been there all the time. They've been burning for a billion years, they'll burn for a billion more. Always there to see.

And still, he's showing her the stars.

The hard wooden bench that they sit on is built with love, shared with love… so much loving this bench has known, she feels it, senses it… it makes her head spin… fuzzy… dizzy.

The stars… Filled with light, emitting heat, glowing… radiant.

Radiant… and Matthew… love… love shared on this bench… in this house… filled with love… filled… reproducing… leads to children.

First the eagle, who broke free and roams the sky… But this is still his nest and he'll always return to protect it.

Then Jo… strong, on the outside and on the inside… likes to kiss girlfolk on the mouth, got no man parts… Complicated woman… the protector who wants to be the protected, but doesn't want it.

Jude… Judith… a kind heart… cut off her lover's head to save her people… No, different Judith! This one wouldn't harm a fly… unless that fly harmed her children. Then she'd probably cut off its head.

And on the bench next to her, the last one: Matthew Cobb junior… Mattie… who's showing her the stars.

They've been burning for a billion years, they'll burn for a billion more. Always been there to see. But when he points at them, she sees them for the first time.

"There," he says, pointing to the brightest one, "that's _Zhu Que_, the Red Sun. Look carefully, you can just make out Jiangyin next to it. And sometimes also New Melbourne." He stops, sends her a sideways smile, "But I bet you already know this."

She does. But she likes to hear him say it. So she just smiles.

He's dying.

She knows. She's known from the moment she saw him. She saw the monster eating him up from the inside, eating away his breath.

He's known for some time too, he's felt it, and he tries to be brave about it. But he's been crying… she knows, she sensed it… when no one watches. Because he doesn't want to die. Not now.

Dying. Simon's tried to tell her. Tried to explain. But she understands already. No need for explaining.

Because everybody's dying. All things alive are.

He's just dying a little faster.

He's become silent, and she knows what he's thinking, but she doesn't speak about it, because she's been told it's rude and intrusive. And in the end he asks the questions nonetheless, "Do you believe in Heaven?"

"Paradise," she says. "Elysium. The afterlife. Common folklore." She looks at him. "Its existence cannot be determined. No sufficient evidence, pro or contra."

"I'll take that as 'I don't know'," he smiles, but the smile doesn't stay for long. "I'm making you sad, I'm sorry."

He's wrong. His sickness makes her sad. _He_ makes her happy.

"Guess I'd just like to know what happens when you die," he says. "If my soul will live on, or rot away with my body. But I'll find out soon enough, I s'pose."

"Shatters," she says.

"What?"

"The soul. It leaves the body, shatters into a billion pieces, then disperses to spread across the 'verse. Like stardust."

"That's what you believe?"

"Doesn't make sense, I know. But nothing 'bout death makes sense. So why not?"

He smiles again. "I like that. I'll be that then. Stardust. And then I'll be everywhere at once."

She returns the smile and they look back at the sky.

She can feel his oceans pull at her. Depth and darkness… and serenity. And she longs for that serenity. She needs it.

Yes, all rivers yearn for the sea, and so she rests her head upon his shoulder.

And he lets her.

* * *

><p>Zoë had been looking over her shoulder all morning, expecting trouble to ride into the front yard and into their lives at any moment, but so far none had appeared. In fact everything was just as peaceful as it had been the other mornings. The crew and the Cobbs and the Campbells, who were visiting once again, had all been busy doing their chores, and now as it was nearing noon, everybody was taking a breather in front of the house.<p>

Jo had climbed unto the bed of her pickup, and was slouching lazily in a deckchair she'd set up there, picking the strings of an old guitar and singing, and Wash and Kaylee in particular seemed to be enjoying this little unexpected concert.

"_Come back, come back, my ain dear Johnny," _she sang. _"Come back, come back, and marry me. How can I come back and marry you, love? Our ship is sailing on the sea."_

Her voice was surprisingly soft, and that and the fact that she had loosened her braid, seemed to soften up her features considerably and made Zoë smile a little. She herself had always been viewed as a warrior woman, this tall and strong amazon figure that (at least some) men felt intimidated around, but even she was nothing compared to Jo Cobb. Jayne's sister stood at least six feet, two inches tall, she was broad-shouldered and muscular, and had – as Zoë had learned over the last few days – quite a temper. But now, as she wore her long, dark hair down and played that mushy folk song, one was reminded that she was by all means still a woman. That toned body was well-proportioned, and though she was surely no blushing flower, she was pretty in her own way; determined, strong, proud.

Zoë liked her.

"_She's turned herself right roun' about, she's flung herself into the sea. Farewell for aye, my ain dear Johnny. Ye'll ne'er have to come back to me." _Jo abruptly stopped playing. "Stupid cow," she muttered.

Zoë half turned towards her, smiling with amusement. "What?"

"That girl in the song. Why go kill yourself just 'cause your fella sailed off?"

"But she was grieving!" Kaylee protested. "She knew she'd never see him again."

"There'd be another man waitin' just 'round the corner," Jo insisted. "She'd forgotten that Johnny in no time, if she'd just allowed herself to stop sulkin' for a moment."

"I think it's romantic," Kaylee sighed, but upon receiving weird looks from the others she hurriedly added, "Not the suicide, obviously. The song."

Jo smiled and then her eyes caught Jayne exiting the house, carrying a banjo, and her smile grew even more. She started playing again, a much happier tune this time, and wordlessly Jayne joined in, his banjo harmonizing perfectly with her guitar. Zoë kept smiling, letting the worrisome thought of MacHaig escape her attention for a minute, because this was a moment worth enjoying.

"_I'm nobody's baby, I'm everybody's girl. I'm the queen of nothing, I'm the kiiiii-iiiing of the world!" _Jo sang, jumping to her feet.

And then she stopped again, as something on the horizon caught her interest and her face darkened. "What now?" she said.

Zoë instinctively knew what it was even before she saw the approaching hovercrafts. This was what she had feared. Her eyes flashed to Mal, who'd been talking to Radiant, and he looked back at her and said nothing. His body language on the other hand spoke loudly.

_Here goes._

Jo had swapped the guitar with the shotgun and strode off to meet the uninvited visitors, just like the last time, and Jayne joined her, seemingly trying to tell the captain that _he'd_ be calling the shots now. Mal didn't pay him any attention, just silently took up a stance next to him. The others stayed by the house.

The vehicles entered the yard, and MacHaig who was piloting the first one (not the flashy one he'd used before – Kaylee had obviously done a thorough job), wasn't smiling this time. He'd brought a man, who judging by the silver star on his vest, was the local marshal, and he hadn't even stopped the car before he directed an accusing index finger at Mal and shouted, "There they are! Arrest them!"

The captain put up an offended face. "Arrest us?" he shouted back. "On what accusations?"

"Robbery!" MacHaig yelled. "You stole my money!"

Mal turned to address the marshal. "I have absolutely no idea what he's talking about," he assured him.

"Oh, don' you play innocent with me, Captain Reynolds!" MacHaig said, as he stepped out of the hovercraft, still steaming with suppressed anger. "I know it was you."

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Then I'd like to see some compelling evidence that proves that you're right."

"I saw you!" the man spat.

"Did you now?"

A hesitation of microscopic dimensions could be seen in MacHaig's eyes at that point, but only for a moment. The marshal, on the other hand, seemed confused and uncertain. He looked from Mal to his accuser. "Did you?" he repeated the captain's question. "Did you see them there?"

"You said they were masked," one of the other men remarked.

"Shut up!" MacHaig snarled at him. "I know it was them!"

"That's not what we asked you," Mal pointed out.

"Seize them!" MacHaig exploded. "Immediately! When you search the ship, you'll find my money, I'm sure of it! Now, do your job, marshal!"

"He can't arrest us," Mal calmly explained, as if explaining the procedure to a child. "And he can't search our ship. Not without a warrant, which he needs compelling evidence to procure. And your word, my good man, as respected as you may be around here, is not sufficient enough, I'm afraid."

"This is _my_ gorram town!" MacHaig retorted. "The marshal arrests who I tell him to."

"Is that so?" The captain raised an eyebrow and looked intently at the marshal again. "I'm sorry to hear that. I assure you, lawman, we had nothing to do with this robbery. Mister MacHaig here has absolutely no evidence to back his accusations, but he does have a history of hostility towards the people we're visiting. I believe some bells should be ringing in your head by now, but of course we'll come with you quietly if it comes to that. Wouldn't want to get you in trouble now, would we?"

He raised his hands above his head and looked at Jo and Jayne. "Drop your weapons," he instructed them. "It isn't polite waving guns at the law."

"That's enough shit from you!" MacHaig demanded. "Arrest them!"

The marshal glanced over his shoulder at his men. "Let's go," he said and then turned back to Mal again, tipping his hat. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, sir."

"What?" MacHaig spun around to face him. His mouth was positively frothing. "You're letting him walk?"

"Until you can provide me with some real evidence, sir," the marshal replied, suddenly looking a whole lot more confident. "Like for instance a witness who can identify Captain Reynolds and his crew as the men who robbed you."

"I _demand _that you arrest them!"

"I don't work for you," the lawman calmly pointed out and mounted his hovercraft.

And as Zoë saw the little smile that caressed the captain's lips at that very moment, she realized what his plan had been and that he'd succeeded at least with this one. It didn't make her less worried, though.

"That's the cruel reality regarding lack of evidence and witnesses," Mal told MacHaig, and kept him under his scrutinizing glare while he spoke. "Sometimes thieves walk free. And sometimes murderers do."

MacHaig narrowed his eyes at that concealed and yet so obvious accusation, but before he could form a reply, a pebble hit him between the eyes and he cried out in surprise and pain. Everybody turned their heads to see little Finnegan Campbell standing a little to the left with a slingshot, glaring daggers at his grandfather's presumed killer.

"Finn!" Fergus yelled, grabbed the boy and pulled him towards the house, wringing the slingshot out of his hands.

Jayne just laughed out loud. "Huh, great kid."

"Jayne!" his mother scolded from where she stood by the front door. "We don't encourage that kind of behavior."

"Aw, the man had it comin'," Jayne insisted and scowled at MacHaig.

Mal did the same. "I suggest you leave," he said. "And don't bother these good people ever again. You stay out of their hair, and they stay out of yours. How's that sound?"

For a long moment nobody spoke. Then MacHaig abruptly turned and, without saying another word, climbed unto his hovercraft and drove off, and the marshal and his deputies mumbled their apologies, nodded their goodbyes and went after him.

As soon as they were gone, Jo burst into a fit of laughter. "You guys _robbed_ him?" she hooted. "You stole his money? Gorramit, I wish you'd taken me with you!"

Radiant had walked up to the captain, and she was not laughing. "You shouldn't have done that," she said.

"Don't worry," Mal replied.

"No, I mean it," she said, dead serious. "You really shouldn't have done that."

Mal said no more. He just started walking towards _Serenity._

Jayne's somewhat puzzled eyes followed him as he passed by. "When did you start takin' all of this so gorram personal?" he asked.

The captain stopped long enough to wave his finger at him. "You're a lucky man, Jayne," he hissed at him. "I hope you know that."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **Jo's songs here are "I Will Set My Ship In Order" (trad.) and First Aid Kit's "King of The World" (K. Södergren/J. Södergren/C. Oberst). Brilliant performers, by the way :)_


	11. Chapter 11

Simon had begun to wonder when they were going to leave.

Normally the captain would have been what Wash called 'land crazy' by now; itchy, tense and eager to head back into the Black and away from the civilization he so obviously shunned and despised. And yet this time he seemed to be in no hurry. He hadn't even looked for work, like he said he would, and even now when they, despite that fact, had filled up the treasury, there was no indication that an imminent departure was in the cards.

It was on one hand not that uncommon for Mal to give the crew some time off after a successful job, but those 'vacations' were usually cut short on account of his restlessness, and Simon couldn't help but keep pondering the question as to why that was not the case now.

And then he began to wonder why it bothered him.

The answer was quite obvious – and yet very hard to admit to: _He_ was the one who wanted to leave. And aside from the fact that they had provoked the self-proclaimed lord of this backwater town and thus probably put themselves in some kind of danger, there really was no reason for wanting that.

This was a nice place. The Cobbs were good people, and a whole lot more normal than Simon had expected them to be. (Looking back, he wasn't really sure what he'd imagined they'd be like – more like Jayne perhaps? But, then again, were they really all that different from him? He didn't really want to think about it.)

The captain was happy here. Relaxed, and in an exceptionally good mood. Simon had caught him humming and whistling merry tunes on several occasions since they'd landed, something that otherwise happened so rarely that it was actually a little bit unsettling when it _did _happen.

Jayne was with his family, and every man deserved to be now and then. The initial awkwardness had passed and he seemed to be enjoying particularly his sister Jo's company. Which meant there was less time for him to annoy Simon or be annoyed by River.

Though Zoë was still a lot more on the alert than the captain, she too had loosened up considerably. Simon had heard her come home that night after the hunting trip with Jo, dead drunk and giggling like a schoolgirl. He'd never thought it possible for her to lose herself in the moment like that, and even though he'd been a little ambivalent about the experience, he knew it had been good for her.

Wash and Kaylee were having a good time as well, though that was less surprising as those two seemed to make friends wherever they went.

And most importantly, this place had done wonders to his sister. Radiant had shown she was capable of seeing past the craziness and treated River like the person she really was. She spoke kindly to her, gave her little chores to do, and even a dress that Jude had outgrown. (Not something Simon would have picked if they'd still lived back on Osiris, but it was a nice gesture nevertheless). The rest of the family didn't pay that much attention to her, but when they did interact with her they were respectful and non-condescending.

And then there was Mattie.

And therein lay the problem.

And it really shouldn't be a problem.

The man was decent and polite, and he handled her somewhat strange behavior more smoothly and patiently than Simon had ever seen anyone do, himself included. He was, as Kaylee had pointed out, not Jayne. And so Simon knew he wasn't being fair for wanting to keep the two of them apart.

He had no idea how River was going to handle a loss in her fragile state, and in one way or the other she was going to lose Mattie. Anson's Syndrome would surely kill him, he would probably be dead by spring. Simon had tried to explain it to her, but she'd just watched him quietly and nodded, and then afterwards gone back to talk to Mattie again, as if she hadn't heard or understood him at all.

And that was why he wanted to leave. He wanted the painful parting to be over with. He wanted her away from this place before she grew too attached. So that she could forget how Fate wouldn't let her keep the _one_ good thing that had come her way in the last five years. And so that _he _wouldn't have to be constantly reminded of how he wasn't able to help keep that thing around.

And so, when he spotted them in the garden that afternoon, through the windows of the living room, he went outside to call her back inside. On the porch he ran into Jayne who was standing there, also observing the two, and as he rounded him to venture on out into the garden, the big man grabbed his shoulder and held him back. "Where d'ya think you're headed?" he asked him. "Don't bother 'em."

"I wasn't going to…," Simon began. For some reason he found it necessary to lie through his teeth.

"Yes, you was," Jayne protested. "And I ain't gonna let ya."

Simon fought the urge to take a step back. Jayne still scared him. "Are you?"

"You bet." The mercenary narrowed his eyes. "Listen here, my brother will be dead soon. I think he deserves to be happy the time he's got left. And she makes him happy, though I've got no ruttin' idea _why_, girl's a gorram nutcake. Hell, she'll probably slice 'im up when he least expects it."

Simon's eyes flashed back to River and Mattie. They were sitting on the lawn now. Mattie was having one of his coughing fits, and River was gently stroking his back. None of them appeared to have noticed that they were being watched.

"Don't see why you'd wanna break 'em up anyhow," Jayne continued. "She's less crazy than usual around him. Thought that'd make you happy."

Simon still didn't say anything.

"Hey, I know how you feel." Jayne's voice actually softened a little. Not much though. "You wanna protect her, I get it, I got baby sisters too. But Mattie's a good kid, he won't do anythin' inappropriate or nothin'. So you just leave 'em alone, _dong ma_?"

Yes, Simon understood, and when Jayne released his grip, he only threw him one short look and then headed back inside the house, a little wiser and whole lot more ashamed.

He was the one who wanted to leave.

And he was the one being selfish for wanting it.

* * *

><p>Mal knew he was feeling a little too confident, but it was hard not to. He hadn't been happier since… well, he wasn't even sure, and he'd felt compelled to give something back to these good people, felt this desperate need to solve their problems, protect them. And maybe that desperation had pushed him <em>just<em> a little too far. It was possible. But right now he didn't care.

The sun was setting, outside the skies were all ablaze, and everyone was gathered in the living room, having a good time. Jo had broken out the potato wine and was pouring him his third – or was it fourth? – cup.

"A toast," she said, grinning broadly and lifting her own cup, "for the man who finally brought Carl I. MacHaig to his knees."

"Jo," Radiant muttered, though it was still audible. She'd been acting a little skittish in the hours that had passed since MacHaig's last visit, nervous and uncomfortable, like a mother hen sensing a fox closing in on her chicks, and maybe that was why she'd insisted that her youngest daughter and her family should stay the night.

Jude was in the sofa next to her, her baby asleep in her arms. The older child was still awake; he was snuggled in between the two women, looking at the scenes unfolding in front of him with large and curious eyes.

"No, Ma," Jo said, clearly a little annoyed with her mother's lack of enthusiasm. "This is a momentous day. That was the first time ever I saw the marshal refuse to do MacHaig's bidding. And once the word gets out, more people will." She looked at Mal again and saluted him, then drained her glass. He did the same.

"It won't be that easy," Zoë warned. She was by the door, leaning against the wall, very much like the way she had done the first time she'd stepped into this room.

Jo ignored her. "And, by the way, it's high time people in this town learned to stand up for themselves," she continued, refilling the glasses. "That money Captain Reynolds stole from him the factory workers helped him make. He's rich 'cause of the work they put down every day. And yet he treats 'em like cattle." She looked around, eyeing each of _Serenity_'s crewmembers. "Won't even let 'em form a union. That's what Pop tried to do, you know." She turned towards her mother. "It's probably what got 'im killed."

"Jo, the kids," Radiant scolded, discreetly gesturing to the little boy next to her.

Jo glanced at her nephew, but then gave her mother a defiant glare. "Well, he was on his knees today. Ridiculed. And that makes me wanna party!"

Jayne was in the corner picking the strings of the guitar she'd played on before, so she grabbed the banjo instead. Fergus had pulled out a fiddle from somewhere, and he flashed a grin at his brother-in-law. "C'mon, Jayne, give us a bass line," he said.

Jayne didn't return the smile, but he did provide the bass line, and soon the room was filled with music, and the three of them played together as if it was all they'd ever done. It was a jig or some such, and it was fast and loud. Amazingly, it didn't wake the baby. But it did stir River – who'd been sitting on the footstool next to Mattie, lost in her thoughts (or possibly in his) – to life, and as a big smile slowly spread across her face, she got to her feet and entered the floor and then danced as if that was all _she _had ever done.

That girl sure could dance, no doubt about it. Mal had seen her do it before, in _Serenity_'s cargo bay, to music only she could hear, but she still kept surprising him. She raised her arms above her head, and jumped on the spot, on one leg, then on the other, her combat boots thumped loudly against the wooden floor, the skirts of her dress bounced around her skinny legs – and the grin on her face grew bigger and bigger.

It made Simon smile too. And it made Simon relax enough to put an arm around a beaming Kaylee.

It even brought back Radiant's smile.

This was the Highland Fling, Mal realized. He knew this dance… or he'd _known _it once, at least. And Jo's potato wine had gotten him just drunk enough to join the girl on the floor. That earned him a lot of hooting and applause from his audience and, when he lost his balance and bumped into her a little, the not-too-familiar sound of River's laughter.

And then it all ended.

First River abruptly stopped dancing in the middle of a step, as if frozen in horror. Her eyes widened and then she screamed, "No!"

Next, one of the windows shattered, pieces of glass shingled across the floor, and Uncle Obadiah, who'd been standing by that particular window, slumped to the ground, with a surprised look on his face and blood sprouting from his chest.

A long second went by.

And then Mal's battle instincts kicked in and he heard himself yell, "Down!" He grabbed River and pulled her to the floor alongside him, and then looked around the room, pleased to see that everybody else had reacted just as fast.

Then more windows shattered, and bullets whizzed through the air above their heads. Little Finnegan screamed, the baby wailed, and the only sound that came from Obadiah was a few whimpered gasps. Mal was about to yell for the doctor when he realized that Simon had already crawled across the floor and reached the downed man.

"Get the kids outta here!" Mal shouted instead, and again people were ahead of him. Fergus was already pulling at a trap door by the eating table.

"The cellar!" he instructed, and Wash stooped in to aid him. They managed to pry it open and then pulled the children and Jude across the floor and lowered them down the ladder into the dark room below.

Mal tried to get River to follow them, but she downright refused to go along with it. She stayed flat on the floor where she was, though, so he let her be. His eyes flashed across the room again; he needed to get atop of things, needed to give some orders. Zoë and Jo were hunched down by the windows, frantically loading their guns; Jayne had finished loading his and already started shooting back at their unseen attackers. Radiant and Mattie was by the table, staring wide-eyed at Obadiah and Simon in the corner.

_Ta ma de. _Mal cursed on the inside.

"Jayne!" he yelled. "We need to get our situation mapped out!"

Jayne, bless him, was not an idiot when it came to battle orders. "Jo!" he relayed. "First floor! I'll join you."

She obeyed and immediately headed for the stairs. Jayne followed her, but stopped next to Mattie and, after making sure it was loaded, handed him his handgun. "Here," he instructed him. "They get in, you shoot! You shoot 'til you run out or you get killed, get it?"

Mattie nodded and Jayne went on his way, running to join his sister upstairs, two steps at the time.

"Wash! Kaylee!" Mal yelled. "Get the water pumpin'! If they try and burn us out, you put out those flames!" He looked at Fergus, who was readying a rifle. "I do hope you shoot as good as you fiddle."

"My wife and kids are in the basement," Fergus replied, without looking up from the task he was performing. "If that don't make me shoot straight, then I don't know what will."

"Good point," Mal mumbled and switched his attention to Radiant. He found her loading a weapon as well. Anger, hatred and stone cold determination was etched into her face. It was quite a frightening sight.

"Ay, ay, MacHaig," Mal added to himself as he turned back towards the windows. "You certainly picked the wrong family to mess with."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **If you're unfamiliar with the Highland Fling, I encourage you to look it up on YouTube. I would've loved to see the captain do it ;)_


	12. Chapter 12

Mal was crouched down by the window, armed with nothing but his handgun, and cursing himself for not bringing more weapons into the Cobb home. But then again, he hadn't expected an attack.

Or had he?

In hindsight, it was clear that they should've been better prepared for this kind of situation. He should've known a man like MacHaig was crazy enough to pull a stunt like this. He'd credited him with too much intelligence, and the rest of the people in town with too much bravery and common sense. It was so obvious now.

He should've listened to Jayne, was the horrifying conclusion to this train of thoughts. Should have let him gun down the _hundan _at first sight. He'd miscalculated the situation completely, perhaps not even bothered to calculate it at all.

"Zoë!" he hollered towards the kitchen, where his first mate and Fergus had gone to cover the back. The radios were back on _Serenity _and the only way of communicating was by shouting, and it was hard being heard over all the firing. "D'you see _anythin'_?"

"Only the torches!" Zoë yelled back. "I'm countin' ten back here."

Mal cursed again. It was the same at his front. In the blackness of the night, they could only see the lights, not the actual men carrying them. And he saw at least fifteen moving torches in addition to Zoë's ten.

Twenty-five men, then. At least.

He quickly scanned the room. Radiant was to his left, hunched down by the other window, at the moment reloading her rifle. Mattie was still by the trap door, gripping his gun with a passion. His eyes were wide, but glued to the door; he was ready to perform the task Jayne had left him with. River lay on the floor next to him, whimpering with terror. And Simon was in the corner with Obadiah, and Mal noticed how he was working a lot slower and less frantically now.

_Not _a good sign.

A wave of guilt washed over him. This was all his fault. He had accused MacHaig for being arrogant, and now he'd made himself guilty of that very same thing.

This was Heart of Gold all over again.

Shouting out in anger and frustration, he spun around and started firing out the window again.

* * *

><p>"There's three more by the barn," Jo declared from her position at the opposite side of the first-floor window they both were flanking. Jayne glanced over at her. She had put on her night-vision goggles and was peering around the frame, scanning the yard in front of the house.<p>

Jayne decided to have a look for himself, but he could hardly make out anything out there. "Recognize any of 'em?" he asked his sister.

"Nah," she replied after a few moments. "Must be hired guns. Probably lumberjacks."

"Yeah," he agreed. "They'll do anythin' for pay. Can you take 'em out from here?"

"´Course I can," she snarled, and raised her rifle, taking aim. Seconds later she fired it and a malicious smile graced her face for a moment. "Gotcha!"

At the same time Jayne caught sight of another thug moving about in the shadows and fired his gun at him. His round hit home as well.

Yes, they were doing some damage, he and Jo, and undoubtedly so were Zoë and the captain. But not enough. There were simply too many people out there, and most of them he couldn't even see.

Gorram cowards to hide in the dark like that!

"Come on!" he yelled at them through the open window. "Come face me like _men!_"

All he got in return was a hail of bullets that forced both him and his sister to hit the floor.

And then a blazing light suddenly pierced the darkness outside. "What the…?" Jayne began, but Jo had already scrambled back unto her feet to see what was going on.

"They've set fire to the barn!" she exclaimed.

Jayne got up as well and crouched down by the window next to her. The barn was indeed burning, and suddenly the whole yard was bathed in light. Jayne couldn't help but grin at the sight. Even though the fire was a threat to them should it spread to the house, it also provided them with some much-needed visibility. He could see the men now; they were running senselessly around, hooting and shouting and firing at will, like a herd of undisciplined farm animals.

"Idjits," he muttered.

And then he spotted MacHaig. The bastard was at the back, safely out of shooting range, perched upon his hovercraft from where he watched the slaughter from a distance. Jayne felt the blinding anger boil up in him and he stared firing again, even though he knew he would never hit the man from here.

The men outside fired back of course; Jayne heard several bullets whizz right past him, probably closer to his head than he liked to think.

And suddenly Jo yelled out in pain and went crashing to the floor. Jayne wasn't one to lose his cool in battle, but in that moment he did, and for a few excruciating long seconds he forgot to pay attention to anything else. He turned away from the window and called out her name.

She was on her back, clutching her right side, her face contorted in pain, but when she heard him shout, she looked up at him. "I'm okay," she hissed. She removed her hand to inspect the wound with a quick glance. "It only grazed me." She grinded her teeth and slammed the palm of her left hand hard against the floor. "Okay, now I'm _pissed_!" And with a loud yell she rolled over, fumbled around for her rifle and scurried back to her battle station by the window. "Die!" she screamed. "Die, you _he chusheng zajiao de zanghuo!_"

"That's the spirit," Jayne mumbled and continued shooting.

* * *

><p>They were running out of ammo. Everybody knew it, but it was Zoë who first addressed the issue. "Back-up plan, Mal?" she yelled from the kitchen. "Because we might need one soon."<p>

"Yeah." Jayne was suddenly at the top of the staircase, shouting down his agreement. "We can't hold 'em off for much longer. I'm almost outta rounds, and so's Jo."

Mal double-checked his own belt and pockets, even though he already knew he was on his last magazine. He had to come up with something. Fast. They were counting on him to do it. Waiting for his orders.

And he had none.

His mind was blank. Empty, just like his gun would soon be.

He opened his mouth to let it form an answer on its own, because he'd learned to rely on his instincts when everything else failed him. But before it got that far, his vision was blurred by the agonizing pain of a bullet tearing through his right shoulder. The floor tilted upwards to knock him over, and he heard Kaylee cry out in fear, and the next moment Simon was suddenly beside him, tugging at his arm to inspect the injury. Mal shook him off, ready to yell at him to get back to Obadiah, but then he suddenly realized that the older man lay awfully still and quiet in the corner, and he turned back towards the doctor to have his horrible conclusion confirmed.

Simon had no trouble interpreting the look on his face. "There was nothing I could've done," he solemnly explained. "There was too much trauma. He bled out in less than a minute."

"Sir?" Zoë's voice tore through the bubble of emptiness and immobility that somehow had engulfed him. He turned his head towards the sound of it, and saw that she was hunched down in the doorway, still waiting for his move.

"We need to get to _Serenity_," he said, forcing himself into action.

"Oh, I'm with ya there," Jayne dryly replied. "But in case you haven't noticed, we're surrounded. How you figure we'll get there?"

"Well," Mal said, glancing outside. "Maybe it's time we used the darkness to _our _advantage?" He hissed with pain as Simon put pressure on the wound in his shoulder. "If for instance Wash could get there, we could use the ship for aerial support. Might scare these miscreants enough to think twice 'bout what they're doin'."

Wash looked positively petrified. "You want me to do _what?" _he exclaimed.

"We'll provide a diversion, of course," the captain continued, thinking out loud. He was already feeling a little dizzy on account of the loss of blood. "We could send someone out the front door, make it look like we're trying to give ourselves up."

"Do these people strike you as someone who'd give a damn about that?" Radiant retorted from her place by the window.

"Not at all," Mal admitted. "But that's not the point. It'll draw the attention away from the real plan."

Zoë shook her head. "It'll be suicide," she darkly remarked.

"I know," Mal nodded. He swept his gaze across the room, eyeing each of his people in turn. "I'm the captain. I should be the one doing it."

"No." Mattie suddenly spoke up and they all turned to face him. "_I'll_ do it."

"No!" his mother intervened almost instantly, her eyes wide with fear. "No!"

He looked at her. "Yes, Ma," he said. "It should be me. I'll be dead soon anyway. At least this way my death will mean something."

"Your _death?_" she shouted. "What about your _life? _No, I won't have it!"

"Ma!" Jayne broke in from the top of the stairs.

Radiant turned to face him. "_Don't _tell me you agree with him," she hissed.

"I don't," he replied. His voice was surprisingly calm. "But I believe it's _his _call."

Radiant spun around to look at Mal, something that surprised him a little. Did she really care about _his_ opinion? "I agree," he said truthfully.

Radiant glanced back at her youngest son. "No," she sobbed and crawled across the floor towards him. "No," she repeated, her voice broke as she took his arm and held on to it, as if she was trying to physically hold him back. River, who was still on the floor next to them, joined in by reaching out and grabbing hold of Mattie's legs.

"People!" Fergus suddenly yelled frantically from the kitchen. "If you have a plan, you better perform it fast."

"Let me go, Ma," Mattie insisted. "It's me or it's all of us. You know that."

And just then Jo's muffled voice rang out from upstairs, and Jayne, who was closest to her, relayed her words to the rest of them. "She says to look outside!"

Mal wriggled himself out of Simon's grip and hurried back to the window. And now he could hear how the sounds from outside had changed. Now he heard the sound of horses, the sound of more guns, more shouting – more panic.

He mused into the half-dim darkness, and saw what he had hoped to see the entire time.

He turned back towards Mattie. "Never mind, boy. As much as I 'preciate your bravery, we won't be needin' your sacrifice."


	13. Chapter 13

The posse was at least fifty men strong, and they barged into the yard on horses and hovercrafts, weapons a-blazing. They weren't targeting the house but the thugs attacking it, and they soon had them surrounded and hurdled together like sheep. Those who tried to escape were pursued and easily apprehended, those who were stupid enough to fight back were efficiently killed or wounded. The whole thing was over in a matter of minutes, and then the sounds of battle died away.

Mal had been watching through the windows, and now he staggered to his feet, gently swatting at Simon's fussing hands, and made his way towards the door. Before he could reach it though, someone called out from the other side. "Don't shoot, we're friends!"

"Same to you," Mal shouted back, but didn't lower his gun.

"Radiant, you and yours alright?" the person at the other side of the door continued.

Radiant finally let go of Mattie's arm, then rose and straightened out her clothes before making her way to the door. Mal and Zoë followed her, at least pretending to be ready for more trouble, but when she unlocked and opened it, it was clear that the fight was indeed over. She stepped outside, acknowledging the man who'd called for her with a nod. He looked relieved to see her, albeit a little ashamed.

Before neither could speak a word, Jayne came rushing down the stairs. "Gorramit!" he yelled, barging his way out of the door, pushing away both Mal and Zoë in the process. "Don' let him get away!"

"He won't get far," the man insisted. "He's got nowhere to run."

Jo came too; she was limping a little and clutching her side with a bloodstained hand, but her eyes were at least as determined as her brother's and she bore them into the men. "'Bout time you grew a backbone," she said, but the tone in her voice told them she wasn't totally ungrateful for their intervention.

Mal leaned against the doorframe, feeling even dizzier now. "You here on behalf of the law?" he muttered.

"No, mister, we're simple factory workers," the leader replied. "Here to honor Matthew Cobb's memory. He meant a lot to us, we couldn't let MacHaig slaughter his family." He turned back towards Radiant. "We headed out as soon as we heard. We wish we'd come sooner."

"So do I," Radiant replied. "But you came in time to save most of us. Thank you." Her gaze flickered around a little and came to a rest on her daughter. "Jo, you're hurt!"

"I'm fine," Jo shrugged, but her mother was already trying to pry her hand away to inspect the injury herself.

Just then some commotion started to spread among the people, there was some hooting and some shouts, and then the crowd split up in the middle to reveal four men pulling MacHaig towards the house. He was still struggling against their grip, although he must have known it was a futile attempt.

"You really think we'd let you get away with killin' babies?" one of the men snarled at him as they forced him to his knees. "Jayne, he's all yours."

Everybody had found their way out unto the porch by now, and Jayne reclaimed his gun from Mattie and stomped determinedly towards his kneeling enemy. Mal did nothing to intervene; he'd promised Jayne he wouldn't stand in his way when the time was right. Nor did he really want to.

The gun cocked loudly and Jayne aimed the barrel at MacHaig's head. The older man glanced up at him; despite his plight, his eyes were still venomous and full of loathing. But so were Jayne's. "I wanna hear you say it!" he demanded.

"Say _what_?" MacHaig spat back.

"That you killed my father."

MacHaig chuckled bitterly. "And why would I grant you that satisfaction, _boy_?" he snarled. "You'll kill me anyhow."

"Oh you bet," Jayne replied. "But you come clean and I'll put a bullet in your brainpan. And if you don't, I'll just string you up in the woods and let the dogs have ya. I'll have Jo use you as bait."

"They like live bait," Jo coolly chipped in.

MacHaig threw her a short glance, then turned his attention back to Jayne, still scowling. And not talking.

"Going once," Jayne said and lowered the gun. "Twice…"

"Alright," MacHaig hissed through clenched teeth. "I did it." He straightened his back and spoke loudly, so that everybody heard him. As if he was proud. "I killed Matthew Cobb."

For a couple of seconds everybody was dead quiet. Then Jayne wordlessly took aim and pulled the trigger. And with the sound of the shot still echoing in the air, Mal glanced over at Radiant. Her face showed no satisfaction as her husband's killer's dead body slumped to the ground, only relief.

Black spots began to flicker in front of his eyes again, the 'verse was spinning, he heard Zoë call out his name, and –

* * *

><p>He woke up on the living room sofa. For a few moments he was a little confounded as to where he was, then everything came rushing back to him and it felt like a fist in his gut. He glanced around. His shoulder was neatly bandaged and his right arm tied to his chest in a sling. Pieces of glass still covered the floor and somebody had covered the windows with tarp that made flapping sounds in the cool breeze.<p>

Aside from himself Zoë was the only one there. She stood with her back against him, her arms crossed in front of her, silently staring through the open kitchen door. Mal followed her gaze and caught sight of Radiant tending to Obadiah's body.

Another fist in the gut.

As he moved about a little, trying to get a better view of his surroundings, Zoë heard it and turned around to face him. "Captain," she greeted him.

"How long was I out?" he asked.

"Not more'n an hour or so." She let her arms drop. "Everything's fine. The townspeople have gotten the fire under control; Jayne, Wash and Kaylee are helping out. Fergus took his family home, River, Mattie and Jo are upstairs resting and Simon's tending to the wounded."

With his free, uninjured arm he pushed himself up into a sitting position, waited a second to regain his balance and then swung his legs over the edge of the couch. "Come on, Zo'," he said, staring at his hand. "Go ahead and say it."

"Sir?"

He looked up at her. "You're my first mate. It's your duty to question my decisions."

"Alright." She grabbed a chair and sat down in front of him, her brown eyes looking intently into his. "Was this really your plan? Provoking MacHaig into doing somethin' stupid so the townspeople would finally get the guts to rally against him?"

"Well, it didn't play out exactly they way I'd planned it," he slowly admitted.

"The hell it didn't! It got Obadiah Cobb killed. And if those people hadn't showed up when they did, we'd _all _be screwed. That includes two children we have no reason to believe they'd spare." Her eyes softened a little. "But you already know all this, and you don't need me hammerin' it into you."

When he didn't reply, she reached out a hand to touch his arm. "I don't know what got into you, Mal. You're always the one telling us not to rely on luck."

"I don't know either," he mumbled. "All I know is I messed up."

She rose. "You try and play odds like that again, I'll lead the mutiny against you." It was a genuine warning, he knew that, but he could still hear the love and concern hidden in it. She nodded curtly, then left him to join Radiant in the kitchen.

"I sincerely hope you do," Mal muttered to himself.

* * *

><p>They buried Obadiah the next day, next to his brother in the garden. It was a simple ceremony; there was no preacher, only a guy reading an appropriate passage from the Bible, and for some reason it made Mal really miss Shepherd Book. Then the pipes were played and a hymn was sung, before Jayne and Fergus silently but efficiently filled the grave with dirt. And that was that.<p>

Kaylee had cried her eyes out; she'd grown to be quite fond of the man during time they'd spent here. Radiant and Jude had cried too, even Jo a little. Mattie had only watched with a solemn look on his face, but afterwards he'd been so exhausted that Jayne had had to carry him back to the house. The whole thing had been torturous, and as they retreated to the porch, Mal wished he was lightyears away.

Fergus reached out his hand to Jayne and offered up the silver coat of arms he'd taken off Obadiah's plaid. "I suppose you're head of the Cobb clan now," he said.

Jayne didn't take it right away, but after a long silent beat he eventually did and held it up to his face to study it more closely. He sighed. "Come on, Ferg," he said. "We all know that's Jo."

He turned towards his sister and held out the emblem, passing it on to her. She only stared at it, then at him, seemingly uncertain of what he was playing at. He saw her hesitation. "This ain't about me runnin' away from my responsibilities no more," he assured her. "This is about how you've pulled my job for years. It's only fair you should have it."

"Damn straight," she replied and took it.

Wash gazed out over the field in front of them, frowning a little. "We still don't know why MacHaig wanted this land so badly," he pointed out.

"Doesn't matter now," Radiant muttered.

Simon cleared his throat. "Actually, I think I might have the answer."

Everybody spun around to face him. "You do?" Jayne growled, a little disbelievingly.

"Yes. That day we went into town, Kaylee and I, to… well… you know, I swung by the city hall. I hacked into their computer and…"

"You hacked their computer?" Wash wide-eyed interrupted.

Simon looked a little embarrassed. "It wasn't that hard," he said, and as Wash opened his mouth for a follow-up question, he waved him off, "I'll tell you later. Anyways, I downloaded all the information regarding the factory and I've been going through it on my spare time, and…" He pulled out his pad and fumbled a little with it. "This morning I found this."

He turned the screen towards them to reveal some sort of drawing that at first glance didn't make much sense to anyone. "Whassat?" Jayne asked.

"Blue prints. For the New Inverness docks."

"New Inverness ain't got no docks," Jo said.

"Not yet," Simon nodded. "These are, as I mentioned, only the blueprints of the docks MacHaig was opting to build. Seems he had grand plans for the factory; wanted to expand it, maybe start exporting off-world. And for that you need a landing strip for ships. Look," he turned the screen towards Radiant, pushed a button and a map appeared on it, "he was planning to put it right here on your property."

A moment of stunned silence fell upon them. Then Zoë spoke, "Makes sense. This is the perfect spot. It's close to the river, it's relatively flat and hardly any trees need cuttin'."

"Precisely," Simon said. "He'd save a lot of time and money building it here. Especially if he could get your land practically for free."

Radiant shook her head. "_This_ is what my husband died for?"

"Well, that too," Simon replied. "But I think the theory Jo offered the other day played a part as well. Matthew was fighting for workers' rights, for better wages, health plans and so on, and he had followers, a lot of them. This way MacHaig got rid of a troublesome employee _and _made sure you lost your income, increasing the chances of you going bankrupt."

Radiant kept her eyes intently on the map for another moment or two, then she straightened her back and crossed her arms in front of her. "Well, I'll tell you this, there ain't never gonna be no landin' strip on my land!" she hissed, and then turned towards Mal, adding, "'Cept for you. You're welcome to park your boat here whenever you want."

Mal wondered if she knew how those words cut into his very soul.

Simon smiled a little. "I also have some good news." He changed the screen again and showed them a chart that probably meant something to him. "I have the results from the blood tests. Jude's not a carrier of the Anson gene, which means her children aren't either."

Jude and Fergus both sighed with relief and embraced each other. "Thank you," Fergus told Simon over his wife's shoulder.

"Now, that _is _good news," Radiant smiled.

"You're clean too, Jayne," Simon continued but then he frowned a little. "But Jo has it, I'm afraid."

Jo only shrugged. "Well, I wasn't plannin' on havin' kids anyway," she said, smiling a little. "That gorram gene dies with me."

"Thank you," Radiant offered again. "For everything. To all of you."

Mal couldn't stand it anymore.

He walked away.


	14. Chapter 14

The Black was calling.

It had taken him a long while to feel the pull of the sky this time – almost a week, which was an eternity by his standards – but he definitely felt it now. And once again it was because he was running.

This place had lulled his senses, brought him an inner peace he hadn't had for years, and when that cocoon eventually shattered the results had been even more devastating. Grief and death and destruction seemed to follow him around wherever he went in the 'verse, and he should have known he would bring it to beautiful little havens like this as well. And let it rain down over innocent people.

He had wanted to leave since Obadiah's funeral, but knew he couldn't take off without at least trying to clean up some of the mess he'd created, and so he and the ship had stayed for another couple of days. But now the repairs to the house was well underway and a new barn was beginning to rise from the ashes, and so he had finally ordered Kaylee to heat up the engines and Wash to plot the course for their next destination.

Mal hadn't been of much use himself, on account of his busted shoulder, and he felt useless even now as his people were loading _Serenity _without his help. He was watching them from a distance, from a small hill in the meadow, feeling the need for isolation.

She still found him, and of course she would. She knew her way around here. He sensed her approach and knew it was her, even before she spoke. "You been avoidin' me," she said.

He glanced at her over his shoulder. There was still kindness in her eyes, and he found it impossible, not to mention unnecessary, to lie to her. "Yes, Radiant, I have."

She stepped closer, studying him intently. "You blame yourself."

He looked away. He didn't have to confirm her suspicions. She waited a decent amount of time for a reply though, before she rightfully concluded that she wasn't going to get one, and continued, "If it matters to you at all, I don't."

"You should," he said, or rather _snapped_. "Please don't defend me. I brought a whole lotta ugly down on you and yours. I got your brother-in-law killed, gorramit!"

"MacHaig killed Oba, not you," she snapped back. "And he was givin' me a hard time long before you ever showed up. Yes, you might have provoked him, but he still made the choice to turn violent."

Mal sighed and looked at his hand. There was dirt under his fingernails. "I went in over my head," he muttered. "Don't really know what happened. I was just so… _eager _to make everythin' right. Because you…" He stopped.

"Because I remind you of someone," she finished for him. "I get it. I feel quite honored actually."

He turned even further away from her. "Please, you're makin' it worse."

"No," she said. "No, you listen to me now. Because I have this feelin' you do this a lot; takin' the blame for the sins of the 'verse. And I wish you wouldn't, 'cause that's too big a load for one man. It'll break ya in the end."

She paused a little, giving him another chance to weigh in. But he still didn't.

"You lost everything," she continued. "A war, your planet, your kin, your ties, your purpose. And now you figure the only way to keep from losin' any more is by not possessin' it. But keeping all that potential sorrow at a distance won't make you happy. It'll only make you hollow. And cold. So if I made you feel somethin', then I'm glad. 'Cause you deserve a shot at happiness, Mal, and there ain't nothin' wrong with that."

Silence fell between them once more, and for a moment it seemed as if she was going to leave. But she stayed and when he finally gave in and turned to look at her, she smiled a little and added, "You should tell her, Malcolm."

"Tell who what?" he asked.

"You know who, and you know what."

The sound of a child laughing caught their attention, and they both turned their heads to see some movement in the tall grass down below. It was Jayne with little Finn perched upon his shoulders; the boy was wearing his uncle's broad brimmed hat and giggled joyfully. A smile caressed Radiant's features as she took in the sight. Then she turned back towards Mal, looking all serious. "If you truly believe you owe me somethin', then please protect my son," she said. "From the one thing he can't protect himself from."

"I'll do my best," Mal promised her.

She joined him as he started making his way back to his ship. "Radiant," he said as they followed the trail down the hill, "I've always wanted to know, why orange?"

"_Shenme?_"

"The hat that you made for Jayne. Why orange?"

She burst out laughing. A hearty, bubbly laugh that made him smile. "It's a hunter's tradition," she explained. "We wear orange in the woods so we won't be mistaken for game. Plus the yarn was on sale." He chuckled, and she glanced teasingly at him. "Perhaps I should make _you_ one?"

"Well, I don't know. Orange isn't really my color."

"Okay, then," she smiled. "Brown it is."

* * *

><p>Simon pulled Radiant aside as she arrived with the captain and showed her the contents of the box he was carrying. "These are painkillers," he said. "Hypos… pills…. They should make him more comfortable when…" He couldn't get himself to finish the sentence. "Towards the end," he said instead.<p>

"Thank you," she replied, accepting the box.

He swallowed hard. "I'm so, so very sorry this is all I can do."

"You've done plenty," she said and squeezed his hand. "You brought us an explanation and hope for the future. Trust me, that's a lot."

He nodded, not knowing what else to do to show his appreciation, and turned around to find River. She and Mattie were close by; she had her arms around him and her head pressed against his chest, her eyes were closed. Sighing, Simon stepped closer. "River," he gently nudged his sister, "Say your goodbyes. It's time to go."

"Ssh," she whispered, not opening her eyes, "I'm listening to his heart."

Simon frowned a little, and Mattie smiled innocently at him and shrugged. River finally looked up. "Come see me," she smiled at Mattie.

Simon felt his heart sink. All those attempts at explaining things to her, and he still hadn't gotten through…

Mattie only calmly returned the smile. "When I'm stardust," he said.

"When you're stardust," she repeated, and leaned in to kiss his pale lips.

And Simon understood in that very moment that River knew what she needed to know and even some, and that this went a lot deeper than he'd realized, and he felt stupid and silly and didn't really know where to look.

River slowly let go of Mattie and headed up the ramp. She stopped at the top to look back and wave at him, and then she disappeared inside and out of sight.

"I hope you have better luck with _her_," Mattie said, and Simon turned to face him. "Don't give up."

"I won't," he promised, then shook the man's hand one last time and went after his sister.

* * *

><p>Jayne put Finnegan back down on the ground once they'd reached the boat. The boy grinned at him and handed him his hat back. "You keep that," Jayne said. "Suits ya."<p>

"It's too big," the kid laughed.

"You'll grow into it," Jayne assured him. "You're part Cobb. We _grow._"

He glanced over at all the others saying their goodbyes in front of the ship's ramp, and then crouched down in front of his nephew. "You be good to your sister now," he admonished him. "And respectful to your mama. And, uh, listen to your poppa, okay? Become just like him, a decent man who takes care of his family." Finn solemnly nodded. Jayne rose. "Jus' don' tell 'im I said that," he added.

Still giggling, the boy took off and ran to join his parents, and as Jayne watched him leave he caught sight of Jo coming his way. He straightened his back.

"Are you sure you don't wanna stay for a while?" the captain had asked him earlier. "We could always come back for you later if you need some time."

Jayne had declined. He was ready to leave. Not that he was in a hurry or anything. On the contrary, this was the first time he left New Inverness and wasn't running away. And that was why this was as good a time as any to head on out.

Not wanting to do it in front of the crew, he'd already said his goodbyes in private. His mother had been the easiest, surprisingly enough. None of them had said much, he'd just held her, long and hard, and then she'd patted his cheek. "Your captain's a good man," she'd said. "You behave now." He'd replied with a grunt. She could interpret it the way she wanted.

Mattie had been the weirdest and most uncomfortable. How were you even supposed to say goodbye forever to a brother you hardly knew at all? "You did good," he'd finally managed to say. "Offerin' yourself up and all that. It was stupid, of course, but still…"

"Be nice to River," had been Mattie's reply. "Well, as nice as you can. Or, mark my words, I'll haunt you." Again he'd answered with a grunt.

Jo was the only one left, and now as she came towards him, he knew it couldn't put it off anymore. She had the guitar in her hands, and smiled and turned her head to follow Finn with her eyes as he ran passed her. Next she looked back at Jayne and held out the instrument to him. "I want you to have Poppa's guitar," she said. "It's only fair you should have some of his." She smiled and added, "I'll keep the banjo."

He accepted the offer. It was a nice gesture and he hoped she saw how much he appreciated it. "Thanks."

"So," she said and put her hands in her back pockets. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

She nodded and turned to walk away. "Jo, I'm sorry," he blurted out. She stopped and glanced back at him. "I'm sorry I left ya. It wasn't fair, I know. I shoulda brought you along."

"No," she calmly replied. "Leaving was _your _calling, not mine."

He frowned. "But you said you hated this place."

"Well… yeah, I did," she said. "But I've come to realize that the place weren't really the problem. It was that you weren't here." She released her hands from her pockets and threw her arms out. Her voice shook as she continued, "The men in town are scared of me, and the women don't understand me. You were my only friend, Jayne. You still are. And you never even wrote me."

"I wrote," he protested.

"You wrote _Ma,_" she corrected him. "All I got was a 'say hi to the others' at the end of the letter. I wanted some words just for me. The things you can't tell Ma. Secrets like the ones we used to have." She tilted her head a little to the side. "You're the only one who gets me." Despite the sadness in her eyes, there was still a tiny smile tugging at her mouth. "I miss you."

For a long moment they just looked at each other. Then he stepped forward and pulled her in. "I miss you too," he replied as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, the guitar still in his hand. "I want to take you with me right now. We'd have fun out there."

She laughed and looked at him. "I bet we would. And one day I wanna see the 'verse. But for now I think I'll stay put. There gonna be some big changes around here and I aim to be part of those changes. Finish what Pop started, you know."

"You'll do fine. He'd be proud of ya."

"So go on," she urged him. "Go _pirate_ or whatever it is that you do. And I'll hold down the fort. Jus' don't wait another ten years before you come visitin' again."

"I won't," he said. "And I'll write ya, I promise."

"Jayne!" Mal hollered from the ramp. "We're leaving!"

Jayne planted a kiss on his sister's cheek. "Take care."

"You too," she smiled as he let go of her and jogged towards the ship. He hugged his mother one last time and then went up the ramp and entered the cargo bay. There he turned around and waved at his family until the doors closed and he couldn't see them anymore.

He was still standing there as the ship took off, and not before the familiar shaking told him they were about to clear atmo, did he glance down at the guitar in his hand and turned around to head for his bunk.

River had assumed her favorite spot up on the catwalk, and as he ascended the stairs, he heard her singing to herself, "_Tell me something real, tell me something true. I just wanna feel there's something left that I can do._"

He wondered for a moment if he should yell at her, just for old times sake, but in the end he just picked up his pace and hurried out of there, so she shouldn't see that he was actually smiling.

"_But I'm nobody's baby, I'm everybody's girl, I'm the queen of nothing, I'm the kiii-iiiiiing of the world!_"

_**fin**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **And that's the end of "Family", folks. Hope you enjoyed it. The next installment in this series is still in the early planning stages and I can't make any promises as to when it will be posted. I hope it will happen eventually, though, 'cause it's a story I really want to share with you :)_

_Once again I will have to thank Lucinda Williams, as her song "I Don't Know How You're Living" didn't just inspire Jayne and Jo's relationship, but also helped me create Jo's personality._

_I would also like to thank my most loyal reviewers: ToniaB for letting me throw ideas at her even in the middle of the night, the tireless RionaEire who's taken reviewing down to an art, and ebfiddler who creates such a good back story for Mal that I almost consider it canon. If you haven't read her work, do it. Now. And don't forget to review, she likes that._

_And so do I, so if you want to leave a few words I'll be very happy :)_

_Until next time,_

_MK._


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